


Silver ARROW

by Kaoz



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Au picking up at the end of Season1, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoz/pseuds/Kaoz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not every Merlyn is dead and this one is going to make them pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This will be set at the end of S1 of Arrow and I am going AU. The chapters will be short sort of like One Shots so if you think you're missing some of the story, you really aren't.

_“You know why you're Balere?”_

_She nods, bright eyes holding in the tears he doesn’t want to see. “Yes, sir.”_

_He smiles, pleased with her answer and the progress she has made. Its more than he expected at such a young age. “You are my strength, Bale. You’ll make me proud.”_

_She nods, a small hand quickly swiping at her eyes before clasping them in her lap again. “Yes, Father.”_

Sitting in the leather seat as the jet taxies to the private hangar she looks out the window, remembering. “I’ll make you proud, Father.”

She made that promise long ago and she means to keep it. Or die trying.

**- >**

**The Merlyn Global Group**

She stares at the name from the tinted window of the car. The driver is standing outside waiting patiently for her signal to open the door.

She's not hesitant. This is what he wanted of her, why he left it all to her even before they knew the end was near.

She's the last Merlyn.

The drive into Starling City was short. The destruction caused by the device her Father set off was massive. A necessary evil, he said and who were these people to say he had been wrong? To call him a monster? To lay the blame at his feet for their suffering? Had they not been in pain before her Father tried to help?

“Ungrateful…” all of them and she wasn’t going to let them drag the Merlyn name down into their filth.

The driver opened the door at the sharp tap on the window. He stepped aside reaching a hand to help her out of the car. The black leather gloves were cold and the chilly bite of the wind snuck into her coat. She held back the shiver, stepping confidently onto the sidewalk. Her driver closed the door and a second man in a black suit took his place a step behind and to her right.

She didn’t need the security but there were appearances that needed to be maintained. There were others as well, guards hidden out of sight and not far from her. Safeguards, none her idea but plans her Father had left behind. Strict orders to be followed. Orders Balere wouldn’t hesitate to follow.

“There she is!!”

Through the designer shades on her face she spotted the first camera rushing at her. A group quickly formed- they looked like a swarm of bugs. The grimace wanting to form on her face couldn’t be allowed so she hid it, with everything else she couldn’t show the world or anyone.

“Step back!” the black suit at her side came forward, a huge arm sweeping in front of her to clear the swarming cameras out of their way. “Move!”

A second black suit took up her left side and a third moved in front. They pushed and shoved at the flashing cameras allowing her room to walk with ease. It didn’t take them long to reach the glass front, the unintelligible questions shouted at her held at bay and silenced once she passed the threshold.

“Good morning, Ms. Merlyn.” The pasty thin man at the reception desk shifted nervously. He was uncomfortable and the sneer no one else would notice said enough. He disliked her already. The media had done its damage and people had formed an opinion on the Merlyn’s and of Balere without knowing anything about her other than she was the daughter of the man who brought Starling City to its knees.

The three suits walked into the elevator with her and then out of it when she reached the top floor.

“Leave me.” She didn’t want them in her Father's office. She didn’t want anyone with her when she saw it for the first time. Malcolm Merlyn was a stranger to her. The business-man her brother grew up seeing everyday was no the man who came to see her three times a year. One of those, always on her birthday.

Balere stood in the center of the office, the expensive shade carelessly tossed on the leather chair. It had been cleaned and repaired but otherwise it looked the same as it had on the video. She faced the camera hidden in the molding. There were others too. Secret eyes that would watch and guide her.

**- >**

_“These are the first images of Malcolm Merlyn's heir. The daughter no one knew existed. She arrived via private jet and came here, to the_ **The Merlyn Global Group** _building. Cameras caught these images of the young heiress surrounded by personal security as she entered the building. She could not be reached for comment.”_

Thea sat forward, her eyes glued to the screen as a blurry shot of Tommy’s lost sister was frozen on the screen.

“What is that?”

Thea glanced at her brother. “That’s her.” She pointed to the screen. “Its Tommy’s sister. He never said anything to you?” she still cant believe Oliver didn’t know.

“I don’t think Tommy knew about her, Thea.” Oliver is certain it would have come up at one time or another.

“No one does.” Thea tossed the remote on the couch and stood. “How is it, evil Malcolm hid a kid away and no one ever knew? Who is she? Where did she come from? Where has she been? Why didn’t she ever come to Starling City before now? How does anyone know she's a real Merlyn?” she threw her hands up and paced.

“Calm down.” Oliver soothed.

“People just cant-.” Thea clenched her teeth together, eyes stinging with fresh tears. “What if she's like him? The newscasters and reporters already say awful things about Tommy that aren't true!”

“I know.” Oliver drew her into his arms. The people of Starling City blamed all the Merlyn's for Malcolm's actions.

**- >**

Laurel paced her living room, the TV on mute while she waited. She hated listening to the lies but she liked the silence even less. Tommy saved her. He died because he ran to save her…

The flashing bulletin on the bottom of the screen caught her attention and laurel wiped the fresh tears from her face. She sat on her couch and raised the volume, the white pen gripped in her right hand.

_“_ _…_ _of Starling City.”_

_“Your Father, Malcolm Merlyn, destroyed the glades and parts of Starling City. What are you going to do now?”_

_“In regards to what?”_

Laurel frowned. The young woman standing at the podium sounded … unperturbed. Like those events the reporter was questioning her about had nothing to do with her.

_“Pardon? You don’t feel any-.”_

_“Do you feel?”_ she cut in, and the camera tightened on her face. Laurel noticed her eyes were blue. _‘Like Tommy’s.’_

_“Is the loss of one person any more painful than the loss of another? Everyone in Starling City has suffered loss. And they will suffer it again.”_

_“Is that a threat?”_

_“It’s a fact of life.”_ She replied turning to face the new voice. _“Loss_ _…_ _death_ _…_ _without it there can be no change, no growth._ **The Merlyn Global Group** _has already begun to rebuild and Starling City will too. Good day.”_

Laurel watched as the roar of reporters in the room was held back from following the new Merlyn heiress. She didn’t know Tommy’s sister but nothing in that Q&A had made a good impression. Could she really be that cold, unfeeling…?

The pen in her hand had changed color and laurel felt the blood rush out of her head.

“Oh…Tommy.” She breathed past the tears in her throat.

**- >**


	2. All These Lives

Balere Merlyn drew everyone's eyes. She was properly attired in black; her coat obscured the simple designer dress beneath. She didn't shed a tear, nor expresses any sort of emotion. She held herself composed and away from others.

Oliver didn't understand … If Malcolm hid her away, then where? Why did it take so long to bring her out? Why only now had she come to Starling City? Why deny Tommy the family he always wanted?

Siblings… it was one of the many things Oliver had noticed of his best friend. How closely Tommy had looked out for Thea; as if she had been his own sister.

Was it fair to assume Malcolm was still pulling their strings in some way?

Malcolm Merlyn died.

The gray sky threatened rain for the gathered mourners. Unbrellas were held, just in case the heavens opened up and cried their sorrow…

Thea tried to hold back tears but they trailed down her cheeks. She griped Laurel's hand in hers and when the coffin was finally lowered into the ground, Oliver lead them towards the waiting car.

Before Oliver got in, he noticed that Balere was still at the graveside.

"Ollie?"

He turned back, a slight frown on his face. "I'll see you at the house." He didn't give the opportunity to protest before closing the door and stepping away. Oliver smoothed a hand down his coat and slowly headed towards Balere. She stood and watched them shovel dirt into the ground. She waited until they were done, when the grass has been fitted perfectly over the barren rectangle and the headstone was secured… Only then did she reach into her coat and withdraws a single flower. She stepped forward and knelt,, laying the flower on Tommy's grave.

Balere walked away, her body guards surrounding her. The paparazzi hadn't given her a moment of rest since she arrived. Only a week in staling city…

Oliver strolled towards the grave. His jaw clenched, he was back in that moment, his best friend… On the ground lay the pale lavender flower Balere left behind.

He frowned, cast a quick glance to where her car slowly drove off. Oliver knelt, his fingers barely touched the bloom…

"Suitopi …" he left it there and stood, wondering if she knew what it was. What it meant…

_'Sweet Pea … why good bye? She didn't know Tommy …?'_

**-»**

Laurel found the box at her front door, silver characters inscribed on the lid.

血

死

She's only just come home from the funeral, she wasn't in the mood for another 'anonymous' arrangement… Still, Laurel picked it up and brought it inside. She set it on the coffee table…

The fact Tommy's newfound sister took care of the details was as strange as finding out she existed in the first place. Laurel wondered again, if Tommy had any clue … ? She would have liked to think they had been good enough friends at one time that Tommy would have trusted her… And after, with their new relationship how it had been.

Laurel didn't just shed tears of guilt. She always knew Tommy loved her more than she could love him back.

_'Because I still love Oliver.'_

She sat on the couch, her eyes on the box until she finally reached for the lid and removed it. There were more flowers inside; red and white … Her eyes skip through them towards the lid and the script again but she their meaning is lost to her. She had no idea where the flowers came from. Or why she would get them in the first place, two weeks of daily deliveries and each one as different as the one before…

Laurel slammed the lid down, suddenly angry at the idea of someone doing this, of daring to- …

She sighed, felt ridiculous for being angry over something so inconsequential.

What did it mean?

**-»**

Balere watched them whisper and sneak glances at her. She barely spoke to anyone; friends of her brothers or 'business' associates of her Father's. She had expected there to be less people but the curiosity she presented brought them to the Merlyn mansion. The security had been increased because of the paparazzo outside the gates and the few who attempted to climb over the walls.

Oliver approached her; he'd been studying her – the careful blank expression on her face. The calm façade she presented, her hands carefully crossed at her wrist and held in front of her. The slight up-tilt of her chin… her eyes were more expressive.

"I'm sorry," he spoke softly at her side. "Tommy was my best friend."

She didn't reply or look at him, her gaze dropped to the floor while Oliver wondered if she would walk away.

"Did you love him?"

The question and her voice were something he didn't expect. What he'd seen on the press conference didn't prepare him for the soft, warm tone of her voice. When she finally did look up at him, the same blue eyes of his best friend stared back at him.

"…yes." His honest answer was clearly written all over his face. "I did. He was like a brother…" he cleared his throat, blinked the sting from his eyes and shifted uncomfortably under her steady gaze.

"Good." She stood facing him a long moment. Balere thought of the memories the two had shared growing up together. Boys making trouble, young men carousing… She had a brother and never knew anything about him other than what he looked like.

Oliver watched her turn away from him and slowly walk through the people in her home.

**-»**

The empty bottle clinked, the liquid sloshed on the rug where it left a stain. She stood there staring for a moment. Tears pooled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, the sob caught in her throat hurt. Laurel dragged in a breath but it didn't help settle her stomach. The morning shed light on the destructive behavior … she knew it wasn't right, she wasn't just hurting herself.

"…Tommy…" Laurel sniffled; she drew herself up and walked into the bathroom. She needed to get ready for the day but the woman staring back at her from the mirror should have died at CNRI. "I'm sorry." She cried and clung to the counter. "I'm so sorry. … Tommy…"

The bottle of pills on the counter had been prescribed for the pain; a building had practically fallen on top of her. The second bottle of pills were meant to help her sleep. Laurel curled up on the floor of her bathroom. It hadn't been so hard to get up… but each day it took a lot more and being angry didn't diminish her survivors guilt.

**-»**


	3. Dream of the Archer

****

They walked in as if they already owned the company. The District Attorney, Kate Spencer and two lawyers … one of them; Laurel Lance.

They were shown into the largest conference room with a wall of windows overlooking what had survived the destruction of Starling City. No one mentioned the comfortable leather chairs but they all noticed. The entire room was white and silver, a large flat screen on the wall facing the windows… It took ten minutes before the Merlyn in-house counsel appeared _without_ apology for having the DA wait. Kate was mildly annoyed only _one_ **Merlyn Global** suit would be receiving the news.

“Ms. Merlyn is -.”

“I don’t need her.” Kate only had to glance at Adam for the paperwork to slide across the onyx tabletop. “She won’t be staying long.” She pointed to the papers in his hands, smiling the entire time she explained the contents. He never once interrupted but diligently perused the file and let her finish.

“Would you care for something to drink?” he smiled, laying the documents in front of him and pushing them aside. It was done to show how little it concerned them.

Laurel glanced at Adam and Kate wondering if they had expected the show of bravado.

“Do you understand what I've just said?” Kate demanded. “This company, all its assets, every bank account up to the change in her designer bag has now become mine.”

The door opened with a soft swish. Laurel turned, as did Adam and Kate, to see who it was. Her eyes widened slightly at seeing Balere, dressed in a charcoal sheath dress and dove gray leather belt. She calmly walked around to the head of the table and took the main chair; directly across from Kate.

“You came just in t-.”

“Please,” he stood up and pulled the cell phone from his suit pocket. “Don’t address Ms. Merlyn. She has taken time out of her very busy schedule -.”

“She won’t be that busy.” Adam cut in. Laurel noticed the smirk he wore and the lack of attention he received from Balere. What did surprise Laurel was the steady blue gaze resting on _her_.

“On the contrary. Ms. Merlyn is the majority shareholder and the documents you've wasted her time delivering aren't worth the paper they are printed on.”

Balere listened to the arguments going back and forth between the lawyers, she could follow it with ease but it didn’t interest her. Starling City could try all it liked to take her Father's company from her … it would _not_ be allowed to happen. That had been taken care of before her Father's body turned cold. What did interest Balere were the dark bags under Laurel's eyes concealed under make-up. There was a heavy use of foundation and blush to add color to skin that didn’t have it. She could see the tired droop of Laurel's shoulders … as well as the surreptitious glances she kept trying to fake.

“You think you won something here?” Kate stood up, fuming at being made a fool.

Balere took that as her cue to leave and calmly stood up. She didn’t bother looking at anyone other than Laurel who fidgeted under the stony gaze until Balere turned away.

“You can show yourselves out, Ms. Spencer.” He motioned to the door behind him, not the one they had used when they arrived. It was also not the door Balere used when she walked away from the attempted take over.

Laurel had no idea what to expect but it hadn't been the complete silence. The steady blue eyes watching her in the conference room had unnerved Laurel. Balere had been exactly like the cold woman from the press conference only a few days before. Laurel had felt as if Tommy had been there, in the room, sitting in judgment…

 _‘And why shouldn’t he?’_ Laurel wondered as they filed out of the building. _‘He's dead and what for?’_

**-»**

Oliver waited outside Laurel's apartment building. He had noticed the signs of depression and Detective Lance’s concern. There wasn’t much either of them could do for Laurel and Oliver wasn’t sure how much good he could do her but for Tommy he would try.

Thoughts of Tommy always led to Balere Merlyn. He couldn’t get out of his head the similarity; blue eyes, a lot like his best friends. Oliver hadn't lied to Balere when he said Tommy had been a brother to him. He'd loved him like one and fought with him the same.

“Oliver?” Laurel's surprised expression gave way to a frown when he approached her. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just …” Oliver stopped a few paces from her and shrugged. “How are you doing?” he couldn’t have chosen a better question if he wanted to upset her.

“Go home, Oliver.” Laurel hurried up the stairs into her building and ignored when Oliver followed behind her. “I don’t need a shoulder to cry on and I don’t need you to-.” She stopped in the hallway, drawing a calming breath before looking at him. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“I just want to make sure you're alright.” He raised his hands, palms up. “I'm here as your friend, Laurel.”

The only problem with that was Laurel didn’t need Oliver as her friend. The further away she could keep him the better it would all be. It had to …

Oliver gave her a gentle smile and walked her to her door. “What's this?” he frowned at the flowers; white chrysanthemums and bleeding hearts arranged in a black rectangular box.

Laurel sighed, exasperated with the delivery but it had not been waiting at the office so she had assumed the flowers had finally stopped. “It’s nothing.”

“Uh,” Oliver picked them up, his eyes drawn to the feathered shaft. “Is there something you want to tell me, Laurel?”

“No.” she opened the door taking the flowers from him and stepped inside. “Good bye, Oliver.”

He stood staring at her door and listened. He knew what the feathers were, what the shiny black ‘stick’ was but he didn’t know what Laurel was doing with an arrow.

**-»**

The District Attorney’s office steadily emptied out. Laurel had received plenty of compliments on the new arrangement of flowers that morning. Red marigolds with yellow veins, deep purple musk thistles, sun-gold trefoils and lavender tancy, interspersed with milfoil. Curiosity is what made Laurel do it. She snapped a picture of the flowers. She searched them on-line because after the strange look Oliver had given her the night before it had been too much.

Crying hadn't relieved any of the emotional turmoil Laurel had been suffering. The guilt over Tommy’s sacrifice had not diminished in the least. The flowers hadn't all turned up with a picture search but she had found a very long list – among the descriptions of the flowers were meanings. Laurel had felt ill-at-ease, more so with the last two arrangements, but reading the definitions…

 _‘Trefoil …for revenge. …… Musk thistle…. Tancy … declaration of war… Milfoil … war. … Marigold …grief. …’_ Laurel had slammed the lap top closed, she’d fought down the panic rising in her chest and had tried to force her breathing to something more normal.

The flowers she snatched out of Oliver's hands the day before, she had dropped them accidentally but that’s how she had found the black arrow. The fletching had been easy to miss among the white blooms. Its gossamer-like material had been firm but shimmered a rainbow under the lamp light. The black shaft had been etched with a silver pattern adorning the crost and tipped with a very sharp silver point.

Laurel paused in the parking garage; her breath came in shallow pants that would make her light headed. She hurried forward, to where she had thought her car had been parked …

“Where…?” Laurel had whispered under her breath when a shadow had caught her eye. She’d gasped and turned, her hand reached for the can of mace in her purse and screamed when it had been torn from her hand. In the shadows between the cars, Laurel tried to make out the dark shape that had stalked her.

**-»**

“Are you sure you saw a black arrow?” Felicity had asked the question various times since Oliver had asked them to keep an eye on Laurel.

“Yes.” Oliver couldn’t have been mistaken. He knew his arrows and recognizing another’s wasn’t as difficult. What had stuck with him were the symbols; 強さ.

“You know what they mean?” Diggle had stood aside, watching Oliver don his suit. He'd been patient, expected to be told to stay out of the way, as was usual whenever Oliver felt a situation was too dangerous.

“Strength.” He replied and briskly made his way out.

“You're going with him, right?” Felicity had looked at Diggle pointedly.

“I'm going.” He'd smiled with some amusement in his tone. Sometimes, Felicity was more like a Mother hen than the young genius techie.

**-»**

She tried not to cry.  The thundering beat of her heart had felt like a siren leading the Black Archer right to where Laurel had run. In the back of her mind, Laurel had thought of all the times she had watched a scary movie. The part where the blond had headed right towards the killer … Laurel realized too late she never should have run _up_ the parking structure. But when she tried to correct her mistake, Laurel had run to the elevators. Her hand had been inches from the button when a silver tipped arrow imbedded itself shooting out sparks.

“What do you want?!” Laurel had screamed, her panic and fear made her bold but that hadn't lasted more than a breath. “Who are you?”

No reply.

Not a word.

Utter silence while Laurel had looked for another way out. The archer had raised the bow, another arrow nocked and drawn.

“…no…” her voice had broken and she’d had a moment of clarity. A realization that what she had been doing to herself … it did not honor Tommy in the least. She had been hurting more than one person.

Laurel screamed. The arrow that had been meant for her head ended up bent, skimming her shoulder before it clattered on the cement.

“Go!” Oliver had arrived just in time. He drew and let fly a second arrow with barely a glance to make sure that Laurel had done as he’d ordered. The way the Black Archer moved, the way his arrows kept missing their target, it had felt like his fight with Malcolm Merlyn.

The Black Archer had moved with graceful ease. Each move had blended with the next and Oliver had been unable to keep the sharp blows from meeting his face, ribs and kidneys. Those had hurt the most.

Until he'd felt the back of his knee go numb from the unexpected blow.

Laurel hadn't run off too far. She had watched them both and had seen Starling City’s resident archer struggle to keep up his end of the fight. It hadn't looked as though he could survive and then the Black Archer had knocked his bow aside like it had only swatted aside a bothersome fly. They'd gone at each other with fists but that had also been a clearly one-sided fight. Laurel hadn't thought there could have been someone better than Starling City’s Arrow.

Oliver had felt the sting of pain travel from his nose and across his cheekbones. _‘It’s broken.’_ He wouldn’t need a doctor to tell him that.

He'd tried to focus, to see where the Black Archer would come at him next but the moment he'd tried to get up from the ground a silver tipped arrow tore a scream from his throat as it slammed into his calf. The hand he reached toward it wouldn’t get far either; a second arrow pierced through the brace on his wrist and exited on the other side.

Laurel had not stayed hidden- a dumb thing to do considering the arrow that had almost found a home in her head had another clear shot at her. She’d watched the Arrow get a boot in his face … and then a shiny silver tipped arrow had been aimed at her head once more. She’d thought for sure that was the end but then the bow had lowered, the arrow had been tucked into the quiver and they stood there, in silence -

“Hey!” Diggle had taken a shot. He'd missed more than once and then the new archer in town had jumped over the side of the parking structure.

**-»**


	4. I Saved It All For You

Laurel hated what she did in the court room. She’d warned Moira, told her what would happen … and a part of Laurel enjoyed the rush it gave her. This was the best part, what she enjoyed most about her job- in the courtroom, going up against criminals… so what if somewhere in her heart, Laurel got a little payback on Oliver. Wouldn’t it be deserved? Hadn't he played with her, with Sarah? All that time being angry with a dead man and he'd been alive… somewhere but alive.

That ‘sorry’ she threw at Oliver while running away from him had been partly fear that he would tear into her for attacking his Mother on the stand, for shining light on her infidelity and with Merlyn of all men! The monster that destroyed the Glades and other parts of Star City… But Oliver hadn't, he'd been more concerned for her well being. And that wasn’t sitting well with Laurel.

 _‘He's different.’_ She had noticed that before but then he'd gone back to his ways in just a few weeks of his return. And yet, there were moments when this side of Oliver came through- he was confusingly inconsistent and Laurel had enough.

 _‘The cane … ?’_  She had been thinking about that too. Wondering at the limp but she supposed falling off a motorcycle could result in the same injury. He was lucky there hadn't been broken bones and vainly she’d been happy his face had been spared more than the bruising.

Laurel tucked the bottle of wine under her arm and struggled with her keys before finally getting her front door open. She made sure to close it behind her, securing the locks before moving into her apartment. The soft light from the lamp in the hall did little to illuminate the living room but the shadow sitting on her couch was enough to frighten a scream from Laurel.

The wine bottle fell and cracked. The dark stain on the cream rug slowly oozed through the paper bag.

“Drinking.”

Laurel's eyes automatically dropped to the bottle at her feet.

“In your condition?”

“What?” Laurel gasped. “Who are you?!”

“And these.” The slim hand that pointed at the open pill bottles displayed on the coffee table drew Laurel's eyes. “That won’t do.”

Balere stood, her hands skimming down the front of her skirt. “Not at all.”

“You're-.”

“What you will come to understand,” Balere walked around the coffee table, her tone calm and cool with just a hint of anger in her words. Her blue eyes locked with Laurel's and held her in place by the familiarity. “Is how carefully I will safeguard my family.”

“Family? What are you talking about?” Laurel demanded but her voice lacked strength.

“You're carrying the next Merlyn.” Balere ignored the short gasp and Laurel's shocked expression. “I know a lot more than you think. About you, your Father, Tommy … Oliver … and Sarah.”

“My sister-.” Laurel sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes tearing up. “What-.”

“You should ask him about her.”

“Ask-? Who?” Laurel felt anger burning through the shock and surprise and the hurt she had planned to drown in wine.

“Your Father.” Balere's head cocked slightly seeing the glint come into Laurel's eyes. “And Oliver.”

“Oliver?” Laurel shook her head, confused.

“You're going to have plenty of time to think of what you'll ask them when you return.”

“Ret-? What are you talking about-?” Laurel's eyes widen and her hands automatically grabbed onto the wrist attached to the hand wrapped around her neck.

“I’ll have to leave a bruise.” Balere warns. “You've already had plenty of drugs to abuse.”

The last thing Laurel saw was the small fist connecting with her head.

**-»**

Oliver knows Laurel is missing. Detective Lance had gone to her apartment when she hadn't shown up to work or returned any of his calls. And while the Arrow was unable to move about the city freely, Felicity Smoak had no problem hacking into the police department and retrieving a copy of the report.

“You know,” Felicity crossed her arms. “There's nothing that points to the black archer being responsible for Laurel Lance’s disappearance.” She takes a few steps towards Diggle sitting at the computer screen. “I don’t like that.”

“What?” Diggle absently questioned while flipping through the screens.

“Black archer.” Felicity repeated. “There's already been one, Malcolm Merlyn. This one should have -.”

“Are you going to name this one?” Diggle looked up from the screen and turned to Felicity.

“Uh, well…what about…?” she pursed her lips and thought, a smile slowly forming. “Silver tips… so … Silver Arrow.”

“Huh.” Diggle shrugged. “I suppose another Black Archer would just be confusing.”

“Thanks.” Felicity frowned and turned around. “And what about you?” she walked over to Oliver. “How’s the leg?”

“Still using a cane.” Oliver replied without looking up from the pictures he'd been studying trying to find clues the police might have missed at Laurel's.

“Oliver…?” Felicity’s concern was wearing thin on Oliver who abruptly got to his feet.

“I'm fine.” He grabbed his cane and headed out glaringly aware of the two sets of eyes watching his limping progress towards the exit.

**-»**

There's a plan in place and its time to move to the next phase. This is the difficult bit, the one step that makes her hesitate.

_“_ _“You know why you're Balere?”_

“I am your strength.” She whispers to the mirror before hiding her face and hair.

_‘I know what to do.’_

**-»**

Oliver hasn’t gotten out of his head the idea that this new archer in Star City has something to do with Laurel's disappearance. Having his Mother home hasn’t changed that nor has it made Thea’s relationship with her any worse.

He limps towards his bed trying not to use the cane. He's been lucky there wasn’t permanent damage to his leg or his wrist. A perfect arrow through the bones and in the fatty tissue of his calf…

Oliver drops the cane on the chair close to his bed. Instead of mulling over his questions about the newest archer he tries to come up with ways to help his Mother and sister. He likes to think they are mending and growing closer on their own but-

Oliver doesn’t expect the arrow that imbeds in the headboard right over his shoulder. He barely turns when a second arrow lodges in the ceiling right over his bed as well. He grabs for his cane as a third thunks into the footboard, much further from where he is.

The archer calmly strides into his bedroom with a fourth arrow aimed that Oliver barely catches with the end of his cane. That only allows for the boot in his chest that knocks him on his ass once again and he's not looking forward to the arrows likely to end up _in_ his body. When he sits up he gets a face-full of gas that chokes him and momentarily blinds him. He can hear the bow laid on his dresser. He can hear the jingle of a buckle and blurrily gets a visual of the quiver being set on his dresser.

Oliver's first thought is maybe this is a doze of some sort of drug but he doesn’t feel lightheaded and certainly nothing like vertigo. Its actually a warm pleasant sensation that stirs through him-

His attention is caught by the hood being pushed off the archers head. The zipper seems super loud to his ears and the jacket comes off.

 _‘… she…’_ he's surprised by the long dark waves that cascade down her back. She removes her gloves as he limps to his feet and by the time she turns to face him her shirt is on the floor.

Oliver notices the silver canister she's set on the dresser and the faint smoke its releasing but he's more focused on her face and the realization that he never expected it was her.

“Balere.”

She keeps her eyes steadily on his and does her best to hide her feelings because she's not sure this is something she is ready for. But she's made her Father a promise and this is his plan, no matter what questions she may have. She is his daughter, a Merlyn and she will make them all pay.

The silver piece in her hand clicks and the arrows ping, their timers active.

Oliver grabs her arm, the timer drops out of her hand but she doesn’t make a move to fight back. That should be his first clue but all he wants is answers. The problem is that when he opens his mouth to ask the questions he's not exactly thinking about the questions, or focused on his missing friend.

Balere runs her fingers lightly over his chest, watching the way he sucks in a breath. She can already feel the subtle change; rise in body temperature, sensitivity to touch…

Oliver grabs her hand and he's captivated by her eyes. Of course they're blue but he never really noticed the flecks of gray.

**-»**

Thea has become used to waking early so she's up having her morning coffee like a ‘real’ adult. There's another change to, like Moira Queen still abed. But even after the failed party and the ankle monitor…

Thea just thought once her Mother was home it would get better. Buts it been … different. And Thea’s not sure she likes this kind of different.

**-»**

Morning shines brightly through the open windows of Oliver's bedroom. Her eyes slowly focus on the ceiling and her arrow then she realizes why its difficult to breathe; Oliver's dead weight on her chest.

Balere lies still, trying to think of how to get herself out of his bed and not wake him in the process. She's hoping the dose lasts longer on him because its his first exposure. Getting the formula just right took a couple of tries and she had been the guinea pig.

The sting of tears is repressed behind her closed lids. She wasn’t prepared for what happened even if it had been planned. So she's going to put it out of her mind.

_‘I just have to get out of here first.’_

Balere works her way out from under Oliver slowly. Her muscles ache, she tries to ignore the pleasant sensations and she's certainly not looking at the bruises she spots in the mirror. Those are quickly blocked form her sight with her shirt.

Once dressed, Balere picks up the leather satchel and breaks down her bow; she tucks the quiver in as well and grabs her hooded jacket. She does a quick circuit and retrieves her arrows because she doesn’t need to leave him anything that will answer any of his questions about her or the Silver Arrow.

At his door Balere debates for just a moment – leave him an arrow…?

She glances over her shoulder at the bed and its occupant. Instead of leaving it, the arrow goes into the satchel and the door clicks shut behind her.

**-»**

Thea I surprised to see Balere Merlyn coming down her stairs, eyes on the cell phone in her hand she tucks into a back pocket of her ridiculously skin tight leather pants.

“Uh, you're in my house.” Thea has her arms crossed waiting on Balere at the foot of the stairs.

“I am aware.” Balere replies.

Thea’s eyes narrow, her mouth draws a hiss and then her focus is on the obvious marks all over Balere's neck. “Where you-…” her eyes widen and travel up the staircase while Balere quietly studies the shock on Thea’s face. “With … my _brother?!_ ”

“Yes.”

Thea gasps. She wasn’t really expecting Balere to come right out and admit she had spent the night with Oliver. _‘A little shame at the very least!’_

Balere casts an assessing eye over the taller girl. She already knows everything she needed to know; she's spoiled, ungrateful, demanding, irresponsible, immature … but the most regretful trait Balere can find in Thea is her weakness.  “You're upset.”

“Yes!” Thea nods emphatically. Because Balere is not the least bit embarrassed or ashamed to have been caught sneaking out of Oliver's room. _‘Even if she's not exactly tiptoeing out of the house.’_  And that ticks her off too.

“Because I've enjoyed a night in your brothers bed.” Balere notes the rise in color on Thea’s face. “Don’t put your failure to do the same with mine on me.” At that, Thea sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes snap wide. “Tommy would never see you as a woman.” Balere takes a step towards Thea. “To him, you were just a child.”

Thea’s shocked she can't utter a word past the lump forming in her throat. _‘How can she know?’_

She catches sight of the car waiting on Balere just before the front door closes.

**-»**


	5. Disarm

****

Thea hasn’t stopped with the dirty looks since the morning Balere walked out the front door of his house. He doesn’t understand why it should bother his sister but it does. Oliver doesn’t have time for it, like he hasn’t had the time to really _insist_ on seeing Balere again.

He has a lot of them, but the Merlyn heiress is not giving him the time of day. He's tried ‘running into’ Balere at restaurants she's having a lunch meeting or dinner. But that hasn’t worked out either; she always has some huge body guard blocking his way, or another way out…and she disappears. Oliver has gone as far as making an appointment to see her at the Merlyn Global Group building… But of course, that ended with a cancellation.

Twenty minutes after his scheduled face time with her. 

On top of trying to get Balere in one place long enough to actually ask his questions, Oliver has been dealing with Arrow business. Dealing with Thea’s boyfriend wanting to ‘help’. With dead bodies piling up… blood running out of their eyes … he knows what that means.

And now Roy has joined that club…

So no.

Oliver doesn’t have time to smooth-over whatever issue Thea has over Balere’s presence in their home or what she had been doing in his bedroom. He doesn’t have time to run after Balere because he should be looking for clues to Laurel’s disappearance that will appease Detective Lance. And the Arrow needs to find out what the new bad guy of the season is planning.

And Oliver is still ticked off, angry and … confused; Balere used a gas to get them started- when the hell did they come up with hormones in a gas?

Talk about _Love Potion #9_.

**-»**

Laurel screams like a lunatic from the moment she wakes and realizes the bed isn't hers and that the fluttering snap of canvas from the tarp protecting her from the hot sun mean she's not in her apartment. Once she has a ‘quick’ panicked run around her garden-like prison and there's no gate to try and break through or open, nothing she can use as a foothold to pull herself up and over the exaggeratedly, impossibly, ridiculously high wall…she looses her voice making dumb ass ridiculous demands for them to let her go.

Later, when she has a better look around her prison... Laurel notices the weather is nothing like she's used to. The sun and the air, and the trees… she can hear birds chirping… There's a, ‘shack’ is what it looks like. Just boards stuck together with vines and a grass and twig thin branches for her roof. There's not even a door to the one room, though its quite long and rather spacious inside. It has a straw bed sitting on pallets. Rough, faded green wool blankets… and nothing else that Laurel can see.

There's a fountain … it doesn’t spill water from its tiers but the water is clear… and Laurel doesn’t dare take a sip from there. There are fruit trees and a clear view of the blue sky… The open ‘shack’ is about the size of her living room and kitchen combined.

She hasn’t seen anyone, nor does Laurel remember how she got to the prison-garden. But she's clothed comfortably… her feet in soft sandals…

Laurel screams again. She grabs the blankets and throws them, tears apart the shack which is surprisingly hard to do considering there are no nails holding the boards together.

And Laurel doesn’t stop there.

**-»**

Malcolm Merlyn is angry to say the least but he's not about to loose his head over Moira Queen. But he doesn’t have to stay in Starling City to get what he wants.

She's finally home.

He can hear the soft tread of her heels; that clikety-clak he's always found annoying but he can tell his daughter is not fond of the sound either. He sees her toss the expensive shoes into a chair he remembers not liking.

“You're distracted.”

Balere stops just at the edge of the window she walked towards. She doesn’t know what to feel because she's a riot of emotions inside just from hearing his voice.

Malcolm steps out of the shadows, still in the same clothes he was wearing at Moira’s home. Very slowly, he watches Balere raise her hand… along with the ring dagger in her palm. She turns to glance over her shoulder and he's pleased. He had been concerned that being in the city, with all its trappings and comforts would dull his daughter; rob her of the edge he knows she possesses. What a lifetime of League training has made her…

Balere slowly faces him, wondering if maybe this is just something conjured in her head… but he smiles at her. “Father.”

Malcolm doesn’t expect the young woman in his arms but he's pleased at the show of affection when they’ve always been rather stand-offish. He allows himself a moment to rest his cheek on the top of her head but that’s cut short when he realizes she's crying.

Balere drops her arms the moment her Father pushes her away. She hastily wipes at the tears staining her cheeks and almost apologizes but bites her tongue instead.

“Tears?” Malcolm frowns. “I don’t expect this from you, Balere.”

“I'm … glad not to be the only Merlyn, Father.” Balere sniffs and straightens up. She doesn’t tell him she's just happy he isn't dead like everyone thinks. She's always wanted to be part of the family; to know her brother… and she’d thought that was gone.

“I want you to get close to Thea.” Malcolm ignores the excuse. He's not about to let Moira have her way.

Balere doesn’t understand.

“She's a Merlyn.” Malcolm walks over to the window and peers through the curtains at the immaculate landscaping.

“She's proven herself weak, Father.” Balere protests. “She is will-full, careless, easy to beat down and cow…” she doesn’t understand what her Father wants with the girl even if she is a Merlyn.

Malcolm smiles; he knows exactly what Thea is... But the blow to the Queen's is worth whatever trouble claiming Thea as his will cost. He turns to his daughter. “That’s why you, Balere, as her older sister,” he makes sure to add. “Will need to set an example of what is expected of the Merlyn girls.”

**-»**

Diggle and Felicity have followed the trail left for them of Laurel that says she just took off. No foul play and no reason the police should still be looking. Even if detective Lance doesn’t know what to think, because he wouldn’t put it past his daughter- not in the state she's in; pill popping and drinking… He still worries. As much as any Father worries over a daughter clearly in distress.

They report to Oliver who wants answers. He's not talking about Balere though its where Felicity starts. She hands him the tablet and says the closest she can come to the gas with what's left of the doses in the blood sample he drew from himself as soon as he woke up, is _Oceans 13’s_ gilderoy.

“But for both sexes.” Diggle makes sure to point out.

Oliver isn't amused as evidenced by the glare on his face.

Diggle kinda finds the idea amusing, especially with the movie scene playing in his head.

**-»**

Oliver gives up on trying to have a ‘conversation’ with Balere. She thinks it might have to do with the fact she's not giving him the time of day. And that she kicked him out of her office building. Which Oliver has made clear he doesn’t appreciate.

Its even more obvious when she walks into her bedroom. She drops her jacket on the foot of the bed and slips out of her heels. She can sense him in the room, hiding and moves towards her dresser, raising her hands to unpin her hair.

A green arrow thuds just an inch from her hand though Balere ignores it and picks up her hairbrush. “Breaking and entering.”

“Lets call it even.” Arrow takes a step out of the shadow. “You're no angel…”

“I don’t claim to be.” Balere lowers her brush and turns to face him. She doesn’t bother reaching for the weapons on her dresser. She doesn’t feel threatened, though he's clearly angry.

And frustrated.

“Why?”

She doesn’t answer right away and can see that he's waiting for her to speak. But she's going to wait for him to be more specific-

“All of it!” he yells taking a couple steps closer to her.

She's still not phased by his outburst. “You have your list…” Balere shrugs a silk clad shoulder carelessly.

“What is this?” Arrow demands. “What are you doing in Starling City? Who sent you?”

“Oliver…” Balere's soft voice washes over him. “Curiosity is not always an asset.”

He's not expecting the brush smacking into his face though he kinda manages to duck a direct blow. He blocks her fist and the first kick. He's still hesitant about hitting her back. No matter what he knows, she still looks too damn dainty and fragile- it screws with his head.

He can see her… the girl in his bed, freed of inhibitions and whatever _this_ is.

Balere smiles. She can see the hesitation and takes advantage of that to teach him another painful lesson. Oliver puts the furniture between them, moving or trying to, though its not easy with Balere, to where he's ‘dropped’ his bow. He lunges and rolls to his feet with an arrow nocked.

“You're aim is off.” Balere states. She uncoils the chain on her wrist allowing him to see what she's doing before whipping it at his hand. He looses the arrow Balere leans out of. That chain lashes at his face a couple of times until Oliver grabs both her wrists and turns her. He pins her hands, pulling her back into his chest; “Stop.”

Balere doesn’t struggle. She utters a short laugh. “And what?” her head tilts as though she's trying to get a look at him. “Lay still for you?” because she didn’t before…

Oliver trips forward with her weight. He doesn’t expect the move and she somehow manages to kick her legs up and twist around to land behind him. That chain is wrapped around her hands, the length digging painfully into his throat.

Balere kicks the back of his leg and has him on his knees again. “I'm enjoying the lesson.” She pulls tighter on the chain when he tries to stand. “You've never been particularly good at learning the first time around. Or the second.” She adds.

Oliver can see spots but he's suddenly on his hands and knees, sliding forward and dragging in breaths. He's quick to face her, backing up and glaring at the young woman slowly coiling the gold chain around her hand.

“A skirt and heels do not limit my ability to hand your ass to you.” She watches him get to his feet, breath under control. “Oliver Queen.” She's had more years to train than his five could ever compare with. “Or the Arrow.”

“Where’s Laurel?” Oliver demands, his voice sounding hoarse all on its own thanks to her.

“I don’t know.” And she really doesn’t have any idea where the pill popping, disaster her brother died saving, is.

“Where?!” Oliver yells but he's learning, because he stops short of stepping any closer to Balere.

“What are you accusing me of?” she's more than calm and its unsettling.

“You took Laurel.” Of that Oliver is sure even if he can't prove it. “I want to know why.”

“I haven’t.” Balere denies and that _is_ true. She didn’t take Laurel, she didn’t have to when there were others more than capable of carrying the dead weight of the drunk growing the next generation of the Merlyn family.

“And the flowers?” he demands. “That wasn’t you?”

“Which flowers, Oliver?” Balere side-steps the overturned furniture turning her back on him though he's reflected in the mirror of her dresser. “The Daphanes?” she wonders, dropping the chain into a porcelain box. “The bleeding hearts-.”

“Suitopi.” He watches her eyes in the mirror. They're not as blue as he'd thought… there's a glint of gray- like steel.

She can picture the crisp, cold drops of rain on her skin that day. The smell of the grass and the earth… How the marble had gleamed, misted with rain drops-

“Good bye.” Balere turns around, her eyes meeting his, hiding behind the paint and the mask. She points to her window. “Leave on your own, Oliver.”

The silent implication is that she will help him leave otherwise and they both know how well that has worked out for him in the past.

He's reminded of the ‘escort’ she sent to kick him out of her building. That was embarrassing enough but forcing himself to leave her bedroom without the answers he's been looking for …

When he woke up the next morning after her ‘visit’ … He’d felt normal, there had been no averse side effects from the gas she’d filled his room with. And there’d been no sings Balere had ever been there.

Except for the all too unexpected stains on his bed sheets.

And the gouges in the wood of his headboard and walls.

**-»**


	6. At This Moment

She's crying out of anger and frustration. They’ve tied her to the hospital bed, wires all over and it doesn’t matter how many times she wiggles out of the monitor on her stomach, someone comes back to right it.  And they haven't turned down the volume. Laurel can't ignore the heartbeat.-

His steps halt just inside the door, a smile on his face listening to the strong beat drifting out of the speakers.

"… that’s a beautiful sound."

Laurel jerks up from the bed but doesn’t get far. The ties snap tight and keep her in place but she's shocked at who she sees. "You're dead."

Malcolm walks into the room, his eyes travelling over Laurel in her loose trousers and shirt. "My son is dead, Ms. Lance."

Laurel blinks the fresh tears from her eyes but she can't wipe them away.

"I've mourned him as well." Malcolm assures. He stands at her bedside staring at the monitor. "My only son…"

Tommy hadn't been the son Malcolm expected; too much partying, too irresponsible, too … undisciplined. He'd been nothing like his sister but that’s what a life being raised by The League of Assassins produced.

"You didn’t give a shit about him." Laurel spat. Her eyes, bright with tears, are full of anger as well.

"You know," Malcolm stares down at her. "It's only right you give back what you've taken from me." He smiles.

**-»**

Thea has a problem and it just walked in the door of the club. She didn’t like the flowers either assuming its Balere's attempt to weasel her way into their family. White chrysanthemums and pale lavender peonies. Oliver hadn't been pleased by the flowers either. Thea had tossed them out herself.

"What do you want?" Thea demands before Balere makes it to the bar.

Balere looks around the busy venue, she really doesn’t want anything to do with Thea but their Father has different ideas and Balere is to play her part. "I came to see what this is all about."

"I don’t want you here." Thea states. "You can go."

Oliver spots Thea and by her body language knows his sister is not having a good night. The woman-. Oliver frowns; he's almost certain he knows who it is. Her long black hair is scooped into a braid that sways with each movement of her head as she glances towards the dancing patrons. He walks towards them quickly, noticing the curves he's trying really hard not to picture out of the gold mini-dress she's wearing.

"I just arrived, Thea." Balere smiles. "I'll -."

"Hello." Oliver slips his arm around Balere's waist and smiles at his sister. "Your boyfriend is here." He nods behind Thea who turns around. Oliver takes Balere to the dance floor, he bends down to her ear; "What are you doing with Thea?"

"I was having a … conversation." Balere replies. She has a hard time keeping the fact they both share a sibling a secret. "It seemed the right thing to do since Thea was clearly upset when she saw me leaving your home."

Oliver stares down into her face; "Why not send me flowers?" he asks. "I'm the one you drugged."

Balere slightly tilts her head in question. "Why didn’t you send me flowers?"

Oliver stops dancing without realizing. Could it have been that easy to get her to talk to him?

"I already gave you mine." Balere adds. There's a slight upturn to her lips, sort of like a smirk but he can't be sure.

"I know who you are." Oliver states.

"No," Balere shakes her head slightly. "You don’t."

A large man in a black suit puts his hand on Oliver's shoulder with enough force to indicate he should release Balere. Once he steps back Balere listens to whatever is whispered in her ear while her eyes remain on Oliver. He can't tell from her shuttered expression if its good or bad. But she doesn’t say a word to him, just turns away and starts walking out behind the body guard.

Thea stops her on the way out. "Leave Oliver alone."

Balere has the sudden urge to smack the self righteous look off the spoiled girls face.

"He has been looking for me." Balere walks past without another word.

**-»**

Malcolm is not pleased with Laurel's behavior.

"These … fits, of yours…" He sighs sounding very put out but otherwise unperturbed. His eyes say different. "You'll have to be more careful of my grandchild."

"Or what?!" Laurel struggles against the straps. "I'm not going to let you do this! You can't keep me here-!"

The sting of his palm against her cheek is a surprise and Laurel breathes a gasp.

"Behave." Malcolm orders. "And I'll put you back in the garden. Or I'll find another way of keeping my grandchild safe and healthy without your co-operation."

Laurel doesn’t say a word. She can't stop the shiver coursing through her at his words. She really believes he'll kill her if she doesn’t do as he orders. She is his prisoner only as long as the baby is well.

**-»**

Balere is impatient in the back of the car as they speed to her Father's home. The alarm going off doesn’t bother her as much as the thieves taking what her Father worked so hard to build. She knows he won't be pleased to find it missing.  

They make it up the drive just as a large truck speeds towards them. Her car is run into the hedges, the driver trying to avoid the head on collision even as Balere orders him to block the way. She jumps out of the back seat, gold mini-dress sparkling under the lamp-light. The sound of her gun is drowned by the motorcycle chasing after the truck.

Oliver speeds past Balere hoping she doesn’t decide to shoot at him as well. He can see the holes - all of them clustered close to the back tire. Unfortunately the tire has a double still intact.

"Oliver." Balere scowls. She turns back to her driver and tosses the empty gun into the back seat. "Get me to the house. Now!"

She's not going to sit back and have Starling City's Arrow bring back what was stolen. Because she knows Oliver's not about to give anything of her Father's back.

**-»**

Oliver feels the dig of the metal bite into his back though he's aware the quiver just saved his ass. It still hurts, the claws slicing into his back where the quiver can't protect him. He's startled and more than relieved when the pressure is removed. Oliver kicks, his foot connecting with flesh and a solid thwump into Turner's gut. There's a silver fletching sliced off the arrow flying to his face by the claws stained with Oliver's blood.

He looks over and spots Balere, her suit is simple and light to allow for easy movement. The hood completely hides her features as does the black sash across her the bottom portion of her face. She draws another arrow, it sparks in the spare light that glints off the silver tip. He sees where she's aiming and the fact Roy is still trying to stop the machine…

Balere focuses on the white head of hair. That’s the one who gave the order but it’s the red hooded boy intent on doing damage to what belongs to her Father. Her focus strays again to Oliver and the ridiculous Wolverine claws slashing at him in his Arrow disguise. He takes better care not to end up made ribbons. She's had her moment of hesitation - worry that he gets himself killed before its time and instead of her arrow it'll be those damn Vega claws shredding into his chest.

_'We can't have that.'_

Oliver shouts his warning to Roy, its all he can do with the attack he's trying to fend off from Turner. It doesn’t do more than make Roy a perfect target when he turns around, his task complete.

Turner leaves.

Oliver yells another warning. She doesn’t listen. Balere runs towards the container with the prototype. He runs after her and already knows it wont be in time but he can't let another one die.

Tommy was enough.

**-»**

Balere feels the pinpricks of pain all over her body. There's a roar in her ears and a blinding flash behind her eyes. What she can remember is falling. That weightless feeling … and nothing else.

Oliver is there. A silent shadow at the side of her bed. The farthest he could get from Thea and his Mother. He can't be answering questions about why she's hurt and in their home instead of hers or at a hospital. Oliver doesn’t want anyone to find them now that he's got Balere to himself.

She wakes disoriented and nauseous. Her eyes don’t adjust right away to the room and the light from the window hurts like pins in her head.

Oliver is quick to draw the curtain, to block the light and gently sits on the bed at her side, trying not to jarr her more than she's been.

He has a lot of questions. From day one and this time she's unable to run from him.

She already knows he's going to ask her again. About Laurel … she just wonders how long its going to take. Or maybe she'll just do it for him. Balere doesn’t like the way he's looking at her either. And she's not about to read into the expression on his face or at how his eyes seem a darker green in the soft light of the lamp across the room.

"Why?"

Its not the question she expects. He can tell from the slight frown on her face and the bruise on her cheek stands out. Oliver remembers again, at CNRI and Tommy… he couldn’t save his best friend and watching as the explosion almost seemed to engulf her in the blast-. He drags in a deep, slow breath, his eyes meeting hers with those same feelings; fear, loss, grief…pain.

Balere is struck by the expression on his face. Oliver … the one she'd rather not see. It's easier to deal with the angry Oliver. Even the Arrow is easier to look in the eyes and see the monster her Father has taught her to hate.

"Balere…" he reaches a hand to gently smooth away an inky lock from her neck. His fingers lightly trail along her jaw.

She grits her teeth and glares at him. He's as much at fault for Tommy as the druggie he was banging. He's destroyed her Father's property…

"Because I'm the one who puts an arrow in your heart." She wants to mean it, some dark part of her still does and the difficulty becomes crushing the soft side he's somehow able to draw out of her.

Malcolm Merlin would not be pleased.

And Balere can't fail him.

**-»**


	7. First Kiss Like A Drug

He's back with food and painkillers, resolved to doing anything he can to make her see he isn't at all what she believes. And he doesn’t know anything of what she's been told because Balere hasn’t said anything more.

There was something in her eyes … Oliver is sure there was something there, something he's hoping benefits him in the end.

Balere Merlyn is Oliver's only link to his best friend, to Tommy…

Oliver is careful, making sure he wasn’t followed or noticed before opening the door and slipping into the bedroom at the opposite end of the house from Thea and his Mother. The last thing he wasn’t is to have either of them coming across Balere and asking questions he's only going to have to lie his way through. There's too much of that he has to do already.

Oliver frowns, the tray he's carrying smacks down on the dresser. He looks from the  empty bed to the open window. He considers chasing after her and has to stop, its not that he wouldn’t catch her. In her condition, Oliver thinks its very likely he can still find her.

But then what?

All the questions he's been asking her haven't gotten an answer… He stands at the open window, staring at the setting sun… one day. That’s all the time Oliver had with Balere, not enough and the confinement did nothing to build a bond between them. He knows he can't force her… She's going to follow Merlyn's orders. She's loyal to a Father she wants approval from…

"Like Tommy."

**-»**

Balere rests on the soft grass she landed on and waits for the car she called to arrive for her. There's something wrong, she can feel it but she's not going to let fear overcome her. What she turns her mind to is the destruction of her Father's property and what he will say when he finds out.

_'If he hasn’t already.'_

Her anger is turned on the body guards once they show up and try to help her in the car.  "Drive."

She glares out the window; her mind echoing with Oliver's words and the concern he didn’t bother to hide. Its getting harder to stay indifferent and cold. Harder than it had been before she went to him…

Balere startles when the back door is opened for her. How hasn’t she noticed they'd arrived?

Its painful to make her way upstairs but she doesn’t utter a sound apart from the order they bring Dr. Martin. Once in her bedroom, Balere peels off her clothes and stands under the spray of hot water. Her mind wanders, thinking of what she will say to her Father about the loss of the property stolen from his home. She has no clue what was taken, no need to question her Father because all she has to do is follow the plan.

Balere gingerly gets in bed and waits. She's dozing when the nock on her door wakes her and Dr. Martin comes in. He's already looking at her with a stern disapproving expression behind his black rimmed eyeglasses. "I see." He sets his black bag on the foot of the bed and takes out a stethoscope. "Do I need to point out this sort of activity, in your condition, is just stupid?"

Her eyes narrow on the man chastising her. "No."

"Good." Dr. Martin leans forward and runs a wrinkled hand over her abdomen. "How do you feel?"

"Should I point out that stupid questions are not amusing?" Balere replies in a dry tone. She gets a slightly annoyed look from the doctor. "It hurts."

"That’s expected." Dr. Martin concedes.

Balere shakes her head, eyes staring at the coffered ceiling. "No. Pain I am used to. This… its different."

She's been beaten down before. She's learned to control pain, to move past it and complete her objective. Its how she was trained, how all League Assassins are trained and she was raised by them. She's known no other way of life and this… Starling City with its noise and smells and people…

"I'll have to do a complete assessment. But I would suggest you stay away from explosions and the like." Dr. Martin heads to the door while Balere closes her eyes to wait.

**-»**

Detective Lance has been staring at the piece of cardboard paper in his hand the past hour. It’s a cartoonish palm tree and a sunglasses wearing monkey sporting a Hawaiian print shirt holding a coconut drink.

_I need some time._

_Laurel._

The postmark is from Starling City.

He knows his daughter and the past few weeks have been difficult… the changes he's noticed; she's grieving.

Everyone is different, they go through the stages but he knows his daughter and Laurel …

_'Something isn't right.'_

**-»**

Laurel doesn’t like her new room.

Its has a view of the ocean.

And a very long drop from the window that doesn’t need bars to keep her from trying to climb out and escape.

She can see most of the island from 'the tower'. Lush green and salty breezes, exotic birds and flowers… it could be beautiful.

If only she weren't a captive.

If her life weren't in danger…

**-»**

He's quiet and careful. The door makes no sound as he closes it behind him. This time he's come without his bow, he's not here as the Arrow…

Oliver only makes it to the foot of her bed before she wakes up and sees him. He stops, eyes on the hand she has wrapped around a ring dagger.

"You shouldn’t be sneaking into my home." Balere warns. Her body still hurts but she can move with ease. If there's a need.

"I tried calling." Oliver reminds her. "You didn’t leave me a different choice, Balere."

"That’s where you're wrong." Balere assures. "There's always a choice." She slowly gets up from the bed, the ring dagger set on the nightstand. She doesn’t move when he takes a hesitant step towards her.

Oliver decides that’s in his favor and moves closer, his hand gently tracing her cheek and the faded bruise. "How do you feel?"

Balere keeps herself steady, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at the simple touch of his hand on her face. There's something in the tone of his voice and the way he's looking at her …

"Get out." She knocks his hand aside.

Oliver can see the walls going up. "Balere," he places both hands on her shoulders. He's almost sure he can get through to her.

Her hands wrap around his wrists, her eyes never leave his.

Oliver has a second of warning, too late to avoid the kick at his leg and the numb feeling that takes the sting from the blow, if only for a few seconds.

"Wait!" Oliver blocks the small fist heading to his face and gets a second one to his mouth. He winces at the cut and wraps an arm around her waist, dragging her down to the floor.

Balere curses under her breath slapping both hands on the floor but Oliver doesn’t slam her down. He's holding her and Balere gets her feet under them and pushes off, all the while hearing Dr. Martin in her head; _Bed rest. No explosions or strenuous activity. And I do mean no fighting, Ms. Merlyn._

Oliver adds to her momentum, both landing on her bed where she utters a soft groan then tries to roll away from him. "Stop." Oliver grabs her arm, blocks her fist once more then grabs her wrist. "Just stop, please."

Balere drags in a breath. He already knows she can make him leave by force if he wont leave on his own. She's done it before… but he doesn’t know she's been ordered to refrain from kicking anyone's ass.

She doesn’t try to hit him again but she doesn’t expect him to let out a pent up breath, nor the touch of his forehead against hers as he expels a soft sigh.

"I didn’t come here to fight, Balere." Oliver whispers. He draws back just enough he can look into her eyes; blue gray. He can feel her breath, warm against his skin… "Balere…"

The gentle pressure of his lips on hers is overwhelming. She's not sure how to react when he draws back and looks at her again.

He lets go of her wrist and lightly skims his fingers along her cheek to thread into her hair. She doesn’t stop him from kissing her a second time.

**-»**

Malcolm Merlyn drops the folded sheet of paper, ignoring the loss of his prototype and stares at the screen. He doesn’t have to rewind the feed and get the dirty details when the image of his daughter lying in the arms of Oliver Queen says it all.

The smile on his face isn't pleased at all. He knows his daughter will do exactly as he says.

Balere is his daughter, after all.

**-»**

Balere has spent the last two weeks avoiding any contact with Oliver Queen. Even now, she isn't sure she's ready to deal with him.

_'Why did I allow it?'_

It’s the question she hasn’t been able to answer. After all that she's been told, everything she's learned about him, of his family… He isn't everything the media claims he is. Nor is Oliver all that her Father has told her that he is.

Confusion has become Balere's new companion and she doesn't like it. She has started to question her Father's plan, her part in it and how it will end.

**-»**

Oliver spots Balere. She's at her table, alone. The two body guards stare at him but they don’t stop him from approaching.

"Balere."

She looks up, the slight frown on her face smoothes away. She grabs her glass and drinks, watching as Oliver takes a seat. Uninvited.

"You've been avoiding me." His eyes skim over the body guards and back to her. When she still doesn’t say anything he sighs, frustrated. "I don't know -."

"What's the purpose of your hood?" Balere cuts in. Want he wants from her is not what she can give. And he's already had her. Again.

Oliver shakes his head, sits back and stares at her. His eyes skip to the bodyguards again but they back off and Oliver looks to Balere. She never made a move or signal for them to leave.

"You don’t wear a mask." Balere points out. "You hide in shadows."

"What about yours?" Oliver leans his arms on the table. "You hide your face."

Her head tilts and her gaze slides to the open windows of the restaurant. "They seem to be everywhere." Her lips press tight, disgust written over her features before she looks away form the swarm of paparazzi. "You don’t mind it. Those insects… You've grown accustomed to ignoring their presence. Tolerant."

"I've seen your picture in the news paper and magazines plenty of times. On TV." He points out. "You're just as accessible."

"Not at all." She corrects. "What they get is what I decide. And when."

Oliver frowns. He looks at the paparazzi outside the restaurant. They'd snapped his picture as soon as they spotted him walking in. He looks at the table where they're sitting, the line of sight from the windows is unobstructed. He knows there's an exit she can easily get to without having to deal with the papz and wonders; _'Did she plan it?'_

And if that’s the case, then … what else has been planned?

"I hoped you would be smarter." Balere notes, quietly. She's been sitting on the sidelines, watching. Learning about the Queen's and their lives, both personal and professional. What she knows it that a lot of things don’t add up. Just like she knows that her Father's plan is still in motion, with her part clearly defined.

"Are we supposed to trade insults?" Oliver frowns. Its not what he wants from her. He doesn’t want to make an enemy of Balere, but he doesn’t know how to get through the lies she believes.

"I can do better." She points out. "You know it." She offers an amused smile. The first and Oliver is reminded of Tommy. "Even if you don’t."

Oliver is pulled from the sad reminder at her taunt. He's not amused, nor does he understand why she's avoiding a conversation about their night together. Sans any 'love potion'. Or 'gilderoy' if he's going to listen to Diggle's recounting of the scene in **Oceans 13**.

"He wasn’t just some playboy…?"

Oliver doesn’t understand where she's going and then it hits him. "Tommy…" he clears his throat and straightens in his seat. "No. He wasn’t." his tone is earnest as he leans towards her again, his hand reaching for hers. "I wish… that you'd had time to know him."

Balere drops her eyes to their hands. Oliver's gently squeezing hers, his thumb stroking her skin…

"I know he-."

"Don’t." Balere pulls her hand from his and glares at Oliver. "Don’t tell me what you believe you know." She gets up, her movements stiff. Angry, and he stands as well.

"Balere-."

She stops, doesn’t bother looking at his hand around her wrist. Her face is composed, no trace of anger on her features and Oliver sees the change. Her eyes are cold.

"I'm not who you think. The person you've been told I am." Oliver assures.

"The papers are wrong?" Balere turns to him. "They’ve lied about the women? The drunken exhibitions? Money thrown around to clean up your messes?" Balere takes a step towards him, her hand pulling out of his slack grasp. "You didn’t come between the Lance girls?" her voice is quiet as she brings up the fact he broke their family. "You didn’t move on as though-."

"I never meant to hurt anyone." Oliver cuts in.

"We both know that’s not true." Balere steps back. "You did hurt them. You lied and it didn’t matter as long as you got what you wanted."

Oliver can't deny he'd been selfish. He's done exactly as Balere has said…

"Because you're Oliver Queen." She mocks. "And you get what you want. Mother dear, cleaning up for you. Paying off that girl…"

"…girl?" Oliver frowns, confused.

"Do you think she'll pay more than two million to get rid of me?" Balere wonders, her tone soft. She can't bring herself to tell him about Thea. Not yet.

"Balere… why?" Oliver doesn’t understand what she's doing, why she's taunting him when he's only tried to help her see that Malcolm is not the Father she thought him to be.

"Ask your Mother." She leaves and this time Oliver doesn’t try to stop her.

**-»**

Thea spots her almost as soon as she walks into the store. Her good mood evaporates, it ticks her off and she stomps towards Balere.

"Hello." Balere doesn’t look up from the scarf in her hands.

"What are you doing in my store?" Thea demands just a little startled by the greeting. She knows she sounds like a petulant child.

"Has **Queen Consolidated** branched out?" Balere sort of smiles, mocking the younger girl. "I didn’t think weapons and retail-."

"Stop it!" Thea shouts. "Just stop… Tommy couldn’t be more different than you."

"Was." Balere corrects. She stomps down the urge to smack the girl. "You loved him."

Thea startles. "Of course. We all did." She stammers.

"I suppose it's only natural you would develop a crush." Balere notes the flush of Thea's cheeks, the press of her lips… "My brother was very charming… I've heard." She wonders if Thea will be disgusted with herself for those feelings once she knows the truth. "Dark hair, blue eyes… handsome. But he didn’t play with you. That tells me he couldn’t see you as a pretty face… Or he wasn’t interested in his best friend getting upset over another notch on his bedpost… I'm not sure which. Or what that says about my brother." Balere feels just a twinge of guilt for what she's doing, the things she's saying because the hurt is all over Thea's face.

"You're-."

"Leaving." Balere cuts her off. She drapes the scarf on Thea's shoulder and walks out of the store.

**-»**

Thea is pissed at Oliver. She has seen the magazines with the pictures all over the cover. She's seen the clips on TV, of Oliver and Balere having lunch together?!

"I don’t understand why you don’t like her." Oliver finally rounds on Thea who stops her rant. "Did she say or do something-?"

"Ugh!" Thea stomps off without another word.

Moira walks into the room. "Trouble?"

Oliver shakes his head, turns towards his Mother ignoring the taunt of Balere's words.

"Why do _you_ like her so much?" Moira places a hand on his arm and they sit. "What is she like?"

"She's…" Oliver sighs. "Guarded. And hurt. She doesn’t have any family… and the loss of Tommy affects her. Maybe more, because she never had the chance to know him." Oliver frowns.

They sit in silence for a moment before Moira decides not to push for more. She's tried on her won to find out about Malcolm Merlyn's daughter. There's a reason Malcolm has kept her hidden. There wasn’t anything in the file on Balere that suggest she anything other than the private boarding school girl she is on paper. Its all just too clean, too perfect… And maybe 'bumping' into Thea's sister will offer more insight.

It’s a thought.

**-»**

Felicity jumps out of her chair as soon as Oliver walks in. "So…?"

Oliver doesn’t get why she's looking at him expectantly and waits for the rest of her sentence to complete.

She smiles. "Are you?" she fidgets when he still doesn’t say anything. "I mean- well, you and uh…are you?"

"Am I what?" he snaps, annoyed.

"Oh." She realizes he doesn’t know and frowns. "Uhm, how…? Never mind. Look." She turns to the computers and with a few key strokes she has the tabloid on the screen. "Seriously, don’t you watch TV?" she wonders while staring at the screen.

Oliver frowns. He's listening to the reporters of one of those celebrity sites go on about sightings and whos with whom when they put him and Balere together. There's pictures of them both splashed all over the screen from the restaurant two weeks ago…

_"So what do we think?"_

_"True or False; Merlyn and Queen reproducing. Fact or rumor?"_

_"Rumor."_

_"I think they are. True."_

_"Really? You think Oliver Queen is ready for this?"_

_"Why not? I mean who cares! Does she need him to be ready?"_

_"I think we can all say he must've been ready."_

_"Right, okay. Gosh, you guys!"_

_"I mean, look. Its his best friends sister!"_

_"Hey, not an issue. 1. Tommy Merlyn can't really beat him from his grave-."_

_"Oh, that is so low."_

_"Well, he can't. Sorry if the fact offends anyone but come on. Would you want your sister dating a guy with Oliver Queen's reputation? Tell the truth now."_

_"Fine, you have a point."_

_"I know. And 2-."_

_"Nope, no 2 or 3 or 4. No more points. Oh, that’s your line, commercial break-."_

Oliver can't get Balere's words out of his head.

_"Do you think she'll pay more…"_

Felicity utters a squawk of protest as Oliver walks out. "So…?" she frowns after him.

**-»**

Moira makes it point to know where Balere is having dinner. She waits patiently while Balere is seated and her food placed in front of her. She watches Thea's sister have dinner, alone. This close its easier to see Malcolm in the young woman. Her dark hair is beautiful, as are her features. There are pictures in the file Moira has studied at length, trying to figure out what Malcolm wants with Thea when he already has a daughter. She can only hope the threat of Ra's al Ghul is enough to keep him away.

She grabs her purse and stands up, smoothes the skirt of her dress and walks across the restaurant to Balere's table. She barely notices the bodyguards but they don’t try to stop her from sitting down once she does see them.

"May I join you?" Moira scans the features of Malcolm's daughter, who nods her assent. "Thank you."

"There's no point to idle chatter." Balere says once Moira is seated. "What is it you wish to say?"

Moira is taken aback by the quick assertion, even stated so politely, its practically a dismissal.

"You've been sleeping with my son." Moira gets no reaction, no answer. "You're Malcolm's daughter."

"Not his _only_ daughter." Balere throws back and get a slightly startled expression from the older woman. Its clear she hadn't expected Balere to know that.

"What…" Moira clears her throat. "What are your intentions?"

"As to what?" Balere almost wants to laugh at the ridiculous question. As if she were the protective Father ensuring his daughters honor. "Or whom?"

"My son." Moira doesn’t find anything of this meeting amusing. "This…child…"

"Two." Balere interjects.

Moira doesn’t understand at first, but then she thinks this is no different. Malcolm Merlyn's daughter or some upstart, they're all the same, they want the same thing and money is the language they all understand. She reaches for her purse and pulls out her wallet, pen in hand.

"Twins."

Moira looks up at Balere. Her brow furrows slightly under the steady gaze of Balere Merlyn.

"Not millions."

Moira is once again surprised that Balere would know. About that mistake she took care of for her son…

_'Twins.'_

"I wont be bought." Balere stands up.

Moira watches her leave.She can't seem to form words or process anything other than; _'Twins.'_

The horrible thought comes on the heels of the realization that Balere is the Mother of her grandchildren.

Malcolm Merlyn is their grandfather.

**-»**


	8. I'm Everything You Need

Oliver still remembers Tommy's reaction when he unmasked himself. What Tommy had focused on, what he couldn’t get past, was the killing.

_"…You're a murderer, Oliver. A killer…"_

While Oliver had tried to explain, to rationalize and reason why he'd killed the people on the list, Tommy hadn't given him the time of day for the excuses. But it wasn’t until Tommy had been held hostage by Helena that some of what Oliver tried to excuse himself for had sunk in. But it also pissed Tommy off and Oliver's feelings for Helena had also clouded his judgment.

_Balere_

She was clouding more than just Oliver's judgment. But she hasn’t killed him.

Not yet.

He'd been in love with Laurel once upon a time. But it hadn't been enough to keep him from wandering. And Sara ... he cared for her as well. And both women made him feel guilty because he'd hurt them and he'd been the worst version of himself with them.

Helena…had been … a project. Sort of. She'd been a way to make up for the mistakes, to pay penance for what he'd done. And she'd turned on him because of it.

When Tommy had finally come around - the guy had the biggest heart… it had been too late. Oliver couldn’t save him.

Was that the reason Oliver kept chasing after Balere?

He knew nothing about her. Not enough to explain his feelings for her, or a way to break through the lies she believes. Lies Malcolm fed to her, lies even he believed, so consumed by his pain and the anger of losing his wife. He lay the blame on the people in the Glades. Unable to see his own blame in the death of Rebecca Merlyn.

And those aren't the only lies Oliver is discovering.

Moira Queen has lied as well.

**-»**

She's been thinking of him entirely too much. And not in the way she should. The drive is just another opportunity that allows her brain to replay her night with Oliver Queen. A night that shouldn’t have happened…

Balere blames it on her body. The changes, this softness…her wavering resolve to do as she has promised; exact revenge on the Queen family for what they’ve denied her of. Finally being part of her own family. For standing in the way of her Father's plans to make something of this place that had meant so much to his dead wife.

Malcolm Merlyn wants a new generation of Merlyn's. And he's getting that wish. She's done what her Father asked of her. She rests a small hand on her stomach feeling the gentle shift of the baby.

Why Oliver Queen? Balere never asked, it wasn’t her place to question but she's concerned now. Her resolve, the conviction she had arrived in Starling City with -.

The screech of metal and glass rebounds in her head. All thoughts of her Father and the Queen's is banished. Balere can feel the dull ache, the slow throb that warns of a head injury. Her sight is blurred and the hand reaching to her head brushes against her face instead. She pushes off the leather seat, confused as to why she's laying down. The driver is calling to her, his voice sounds muffled but she can clearly identify the emotions- when he starts to yell at her in fear.

By instinct, her body quickly pulls itself together. Adrenaline rushes through her and fear is pushed aside. Her hand grabs the cold hilt of a 9mm. as the back passenger door is torn open. She barely aims before shooting, her target is close enough she can't miss. The smallest details seem to jump out; the mask, the rough material of the black coat he's wearing, the cluster of bullets on his chest.

The vice around her wrist elicits a short gasp of pain before she bites down on her lip. The huge fist is the last thing she will see.

**-»**

Oliver hangs up the phone and heads towards his Mother's voice. She's not alone but he's not expecting the familiar voice, it stops him cold just outside of the living room.

_'Slade… it can't be.'_

Oliver jerks forward and right into the living room, into the cozy meeting. He barely knows what his Mother is saying but he obviously makes the appropriate replies if not politely enough for her liking.

Slade is supposed to be dead. The fact he's sitting in the Queen's living room, eye patch in place as a reminder of what Oliver did … fills him with dread.

_'What is he doing here? What does he want?'_

Stupid question because Oliver is only now connecting all the dots. All the little clues that pointed to a ghost and as it turns out, the ghost is very much alive.

Thea interrupts their strained tea hour. She has her tablet in hand, completely absorbed by what she's watching.

"This is my daughter, Thea." Moira makes the introduction. That gets Thea's attention and she makes an attempt at hiding the tablet while politely greeting Slade.

"You seem preoccupied." Slade notes.

"Oh, uhm… No. It's just-?" she can't help glancing at Oliver.

"What is it, Thea?" Moira looks curiously at her daughter.

Oliver reaches to grab the tablet. The volume has been lowered, obviously in haste, but in the sudden silence they can all hear Balere's name. He ups the volume and watches the news feed-.

**Balere Merlyn held for ransom.**

Its almost surreal, this feeling of anxious fear overshadowing a slowly burning anger. The images don’t help; of Balere tied and unconscious in some dark hole. He's got his cell phone in hand without realizing it. Felicity on the other end as he takes the tablet with him towards the front door where his Mother and sister can't hear him.

 _"I know."_ Felicity cuts him off before he can tell her what he wants. _"Its on all the stations. I mean why wouldn’t it. She's a billionaire and a Merlyn. Her Father turned the Glades into a-."_

"Find her." Oliver demands. He's not in the mood for one of her nervous rants.

 _"Right. Yes."_ She nods but he can't see her. _"Of course. I'm triangulating the-."_

"I don’t care. Just get me a location." He demands and hangs up. They're all just standing outside the living room. Watching him.

"Oliver?" Moira questions and Oliver can't help but wish he could tell her she's been entertaining a killer. But then… well, isn't he a killer too?

"Mr. Wilson." Oliver draws in a breath and focuses on the enemy. "I'll walk you out."

He ignores Moira's disapproving glare or his sisters curious expression. Oliver just needs to get Slade away from his family.

"Yes," Slade nods, his fake smile in place. "I should be going." He turns to Moira. "Thank you."

Oliver waits impatiently as his Mother makes her polite and socially acceptable goodbye. By the time they get outside, Oliver is itching to put another arrow in the man he knows is responsible for Balere's kidnapping.

"Where is she?"

"Who?" Slade's amicable tone only adds to the anger Oliver is trying to subdue.

"What do you want?" he demands. "Its not the money, I can see you don’t need it so why take Balere? Just let her go, Slade."

"Go?" Slade seems pleased Oliver is even asking him to consider mercy. "I've only just begun. And it ends once you've lost everything. Everyone you love."

"She's pregnant." Oliver doesn’t think its going to help but he wants to believe some part of Slade will show leniency. "Let her go."

"Yes, I know." Slade's slow smile is cold. "She's beautiful. You have good taste..." he thinks of Shado, the fierce beauty from the island. "After what her Father did to your city… she's no innocent." He knows this for a fact. He knows more about her than olive thinks and Balere was his target the moment she was linked to Oliver. "The people of Starling City wont mourn her death. She's a Merlyn and they haven't forgotten what her Father did here."

"What do you want, Slade?" Oliver demands, tone harsh. "You want me?"

"Right now," Slade smiles. "I have all I want, boy." He turns away, gets into his car and drives away.

Oliver is left watching, until his cell phone rings.

**-»**

Its all over the city. Ransom for Balere Merlyn. Grainy images of the pregnant heiress. Tied up and unconscious in a dank pit somewhere. The stains on her white blouse have to be blood. Her face is bruised, worse than the dark images are concealing.

Canary has come to Starling City for something else. But she's going to need Balere as well, even if all she does is deliver a message. The last few days have not provided an opportunity to speak with Balere. Bodyguards, paparazzi…

The waiting is finally over. The police radio announces a sighting of the Arrow. And of course, its in the Glades.

**-»**

The call is a day late.

Late, because his daughter has been taken by someone and the idiots supposedly keeping an eye on her can't tell him who.

Malcolm has already lost one child. His only son…

"No more."

He's not going to lose anyone else. He's not going to sit back… Malcolm doesn’t want to live with another 'voice mail'. The ones from Rebecca keep him from any peace, all he has is anger and guilt.

The only reason Malcolm joined in The Undertaking was for her… for what was done to her. The man who did it is dead. Malcolm killed him but it didn’t make anything better. It didn’t bring back Rebecca and it didn’t get rid of the anger… all that happened was Malcolm became a better killer.

**-»**

The cold is impossible to ignore. His breath leaves a cloud of condensation. There's no one to stop him. No one guarding her and she's in the darkest corner of the sewer tunnel. Leaking water makes the musty air difficult to breathe and she's been here almost two nights. He can easily see she's tried to break free. Her wrists are bloody from the chains, her face is marked; cuts that have dried blood running down the side of her face. A dark bruise on her left temple and cheek from where she's been struck-.

Her eyes flutter open and Oliver has a glimpse of blue-gray before she's unconscious again.

"Balere?" his touch is gentle but she makes no sound, doesn’t even move. He quickly checks her pulse and is satisfied that its strong, Oliver stands up and breaks the chains on her wrists. He's much more careful with the chains wrapped around her torso and the bump of her stomach.

He's almost afraid… the green gloved hand tentatively splays flat on her belly. He thinks he can feel their child move and then surprise because he's definitely felt a kick. Oliver notices the smile on his face and quickly wipes it off.

Its real.

He knew what was coming and the insecurity, the fear of what kind of Father he would be struck him again.

But this time isn't as numbing or as scary as it had been seven years ago. This time, Oliver isn't the selfish, partying playboy and his Mother won't be buying off Balere. But this isn't a safe place to think about their future - and there _will_ be one for them - right now, he needs to get her to safety.

The nearest hospital is in the Glades and Oliver very carefully takes her in his arms. He stops, quickly running through his limited options. The blond woman standing in his way makes no move to attack. She stares at him. With Balere in his arms, he's vulnerable.

Canary says nothing. Her eyes take in the sight of Balere unconscious. There's dirt and blood on her clothes. Bruises on her face and she looks very fragile in his arms. This is not the woman she knows, not the assassin that has participated in the Canary's training, a friend of the Heir to the Demon…

The long silence is broken by the scuff of her boots as she steps out of the way. She can see him struggle to make his choice but he finally starts walking.

They both know the rescue has been too easy.

**-»**

She can hear the beeping of machines and the resounding thwump of something else, some other machine. The lights still hurt her eyes but she can stand it enough to get her bearings. The nauseous feeling doesn’t abate and where she is finally registers her sluggish brain.

_'Hospital.'_

She follows the tube in her arm and yanks the needle dripping clear liquid on the floor. The rest of the wires and sticky pads get the same treatment and her legs tangle in the thin sheets as she's trying to get out of the sterile bed. There's a nurse scolding her from the door as she walks in calling to someone else behind her. Balere smacks her restraining hands aside and wobbles on her feet as they touch the cold floor. The second nurse is taller and wider, older  and forceful but Balere deals with her the same. Both nurses are struggling to restrain Balere, one hangs on to her arm until Balere makes her kneel.

"Stop!"

She knows his voice. It doesn’t stop her from punching the big nurse which she shoves into Oliver.

"Wait!" Oliver grunts under the weight of the nurse and sets her aside. "Balere, listen." He grabs her arms and pulls her into his chest hoping like hell she's not about to drop him. "You're safe. Alright? We're at the hospital in the glades. Surrounded by police… he's not going to take you again." He whispers to the top of her head.

Balere frowns, her body sags against his, spent. She allows him to pick her up and lay her down once again but her brain is working out what he's just said.

_"…he's not going to take you again."_

_'He?'_ because those words keep playing in her head and she's wondering if this little attempt on her is Oliver's fault and not the League as she had assumed.

"Get Dr. Martin." She watches him hesitate only a moment before handing her the cell phone. The nurses both huff, they have perfectly capable doctors on hand and they’ve been treating her just fine.

"She'll have what she wants." Oliver snaps at them. He's almost sorry but this is his child and Balere, so he's not too sorry. At the door, he spots Detective Lance and its time for questions they hadn't been able to ask until she woke up.

"Hello, Ms. Merlyn." Lance walks right in with only a nod for Oliver. "If its all the same, we have some questions for her. You can wait outside Mr. Queen."

Balere watches them both, the tight set of their features that does nothing to hide anger. She can tell they both are, angry, but for different reasons and then Oliver steps between herself and Detective Lance.

"I'll stay." Oliver moves to the opposite side of the room and listens to Balere evade the questions and seem completely innocent. She tells them about the crash and the mask but that’s all she can remember. They ask her if she has any idea who could've done this to her but again, she denies any knowledge.

Oliver is amazed at how easily she lies to them and that they believe her without question.

"If there's anything else you can remember…" Detective Lance hands her his card and looks at her for a long moment. He thinks of his girls and the heartache being in love with Oliver Queen has earned them. He thinks of all the criminals he's put behind bars and how much they'd love to get at him and barring that, hurt his girls… What Malcolm Merlyn did to the Glades… Lance can see very clearly the danger Balere Merlyn is in. "I'll have a patrol posted outside. And at your door."

"Thank you, Detective Lance." Balere can see the mix of emotions he tries to hide and says nothing else as he leaves. Once alone with Oliver she continues to ignore his presence though she knows he's going to ask her about the attack.

"You lied to him." Oliver gently sits beside her, careful and a bit afraid of causing either of them any harm. He'd carried her to the emergency entrance, calling out for help and then he'd struggled to leave her in their care. Unconscious, helpless… until he'd been able to use the media as an excuse to rush in and guard her.

"Go away." She murmurs, her eyes closed, hands gently laid flat on her stomach, rubbing in circles.

Oliver frowns. "I'm not leaving you."

"I don’t need you." Balere looks up at him. "I'm not weak, not fragile and carrying this child doesn’t make me useless or defenseless."

"Balere…"

"What do you want?" she frowns. "Why is the mask interested in me? And why does the man behind it frighten you?"

Oliver recoils as though she's slapped him. He is afraid. Of what Slade has planned and the fact that all this time he's been chasing a ghost he didn't want to see.

"Go back to your tower, Oliver." Balere sighs. "Before its demolished."

"You're in danger. And I don’t want you involved more than you are-."

"What part did you miss?" Balere scowls at him.

"Ah! The happy parents!" Dr. Martin exclaims as he walks into her room ignoring the scowl she levels on him for the comment. "About time I get you in one of these appointments."

"Its hardly that." Balere snaps. She can see it doesn’t bother Dr. Martin one bit. "He wont be staying-."

"Nonsense, my dear. You'll both want to hear this." He promises. It only takes him a moment to set up the monitor and then Oliver can hear the rapid beat pulse from the speakers.

"Is…?"

"Your baby's heart." Dr. Martin smiles. He goes off into some explanation about fetuses and gestation periods and what-not but all Oliver can focus on is the heart beat. It seems incredible and there on the screen he can make out a blobby shape that might sort of look a bit like a baby.

"Now, I did tell you to take it easy or I'd have to place you on bed rest." Dr. Martin chastises Balere as he walks around and picks up the chart to review it. "No strenuous activity… But I can see that will be difficult. So, young lady, I'm a afraid I'll have to insist. Doctors orders. Until further notice." He smiles, safely away from her reach and the daggers in her eyes.

"Not. Here." Balere bites out but Dr. Martin agrees.

"You are better off at home. I'll have you discharged within the hour." He turns to Oliver and sort of scowls. "Can I trust you to get her home and tuck her into bed?"

Oliver can't help his own amused smile. "Of course."

"Of course." Dr. Martin echoes with a chuckle as he leaves them alone to get the paper work sorted.

"As amusing as you two seem to find this, you are not going home with me." Balere states in her coldest tone.

"That’s why you're coming home with me." Oliver reaches for her hand only for Balere to pull away from him.

"We are enemies."

**-»**

She's checked every room in the Merlyn Mansion. Looked behind pictures and found quite a few safe's. Opening them is not what she's there for but it makes her wonder what Malcolm Merlyn had needed with all of the safes in his home.

Its been a day already, since the Arrow delivered Balere Merlyn to the glades emergency room. Its only taken a few hours with Oliver Queen for the heiress to be discharged and on her way home.

She waits out of sight for the moment Balere Merlyn arrives home.

They have something to discuss.

**-»**

Diggle has the car waiting in the side alley but even he can't keep the mob of press away as Oliver wheels a very unhappy Balere from the hospitals side exit.

"We better hurry." Diggle urges.

Balere merely stares at the rush of cameras coming at her with distaste hidden behind a blank mask. Oliver blocks them from her sight as he picks her up and quickly slips into the back seat with her. The door closes but it only diminishes the glares of flashing lights and muffles the screaming questions. He doesn’t let her go and keeps her cradled in his arms the entire ride out of the glades. He wants to take her home, where he can be sure that she's safe but he can't stay there to guarantee it. And Balere is adamant the only place she is going is to the Merlyn Mansion.  

Where she belongs.

He watches her doze fitfully, trying to keep herself alert and refusing to let him provide what little comfort he can. They’ve tricked her into a light sedative which has made her drowsy and much easier to handle. How long that’s going to last is anyone's guess.

Oliver feels guilty.

Slade wants her simply because of what she means to Oliver. And what is that?

Oliver can barely let himself entertain the thought of 'more' with Balere. He wants to. Its like a hidden thing he hadn't been aware of. Like being content when one thought they were happy and suddenly experience joy for the first time. Everything before it is not enough anymore. Content is no longer enough and that joy… its that thing you strive for again and again.

Oliver smoothes the inky strands out of her face and lightly brushes her cheek with his fingers. What he sees is a young woman struggling with a difficult choice; to please her dead Father or to take the life she wants that goes against everything Malcolm Merlyn has told her needs to be done.

Diggle glances into the rearview mirror. He can see the struggle of emotions on Oliver's face. He wishes there was some way to make it easier, the guy hasn’t had much that’s been easy the last 6 years. A little bit of peace and happiness shouldn’t be too much to ask for.

Oliver leans closer, "Balere…" his voice whispers against her lips and her eyes barely flutter in response.

**-»**


	9. Let Me Tell You The Reasons Why

_"We are enemies."_

Why?

Oliver always comes back to that question. Why is he the enemy? Is it vengeance she's after?

Oliver tried to talk to her in the car. He made the 'attempt' at conversation once he was done kissing Balere. She hadn't retaliated, not physically but she did 'insist' on being returned to her home. Oliver had reluctantly ordered Diggle to drive to the Merlyn Mansion. There was no doubt Balere would find a way out of the Queen Mansion. She'd done so before.

_"Focus on one life. You can't be successful at both."_

That was her answer when Oliver asked why she was insistent in putting an arrow in him. He'd seen a flash of confusion and surprise cross her features when he asked her why she couldn’t answer him straight. Why it was she tried to hate him?

_"You and Laurel. You're responsible for my Father, for my brother. Their deaths."_

Tommy was an accident. But Oliver couldn’t deny he'd killed Malcolm Merlyn. Even trying to explain it as self defense… He wasn’t going to lie to Balere. Not about that night.

**-»**

He's pacing the length of the 2nd floor hall. He's only just made it in to Starling City. Dr. Martin has assured him Balere and his grandchild are safe. He's also made mention of Oliver Queen being at her side and Malcolm has read the news papers, all of them crediting the Arrow with his daughters rescue.

Malcolm has been very carefully holding his emotions in check. Fear of arriving too late to save his daughter. Guilt for not showing her half the affection he'd showered on Tommy before Rebecca… Anger, that Oliver would put Balere in this situation because he's been too stupid, too _weak_ to take out the threat Slade Wilson is. Annoyance, because he's left the Lance girl back at his hideaway and who knows what sorts of antics she'll get up to in his absence. It's almost as if Laurel _wants_ to get rid of his grandchild. All her abusive behavior hasn’t harmed the fetus. Yet… But it hasn’t been for lack of trying on her part. And what a waste. What had his son seen in that girl to begin with?

A creak in the boards stops him mid step. He listens because he knows it wasn’t his tread that made that board creak. Malcolm knows every inch of this house and then its softer but still a creaking board. He steps into the shadows of the corner where a suit of armor stands. He waits listening to the lengthening silence. Someone is in his home and Malcolm isn't going to allow his daughter to walk in on someone trying to cause her any harm.

Not in his home.

**-»**

_"Malcolm's machine is the reason he's dead."_

No matter, no matter the reason, there is always someone else to blame. She hasn’t met anyone in Starling City that takes responsibility for their actions. There is always an excuse, a reason _why_ they aren't to blame. She's sick of it. Sick of the city her Father wanted to rescue.

_"You're both blind to your own complicity."_

She couldn’t hide her disappointment. The fact she doesn’t hate him is alarming. He is her enemy. He has to be punished. Its all her Father has asked of her.

_"You know where she is… Laurel."_

_"Are you accusing me again? Tell me, have I lied to you?"_

They both know that she has. Even if Oliver doubts when she says she hasn’t, something tells him that isn't true but he can't know and it throws him.

And she told him.

Balere shuts the heavy door behind her and drags in a heavy breath.

_"You're Mother is a liar. Thea is a Merlyn."_

The shock hadn't worn off even when he followed her out of the car. She had though to push him away, make him angry, somehow get Oliver to leave her alone until she was stronger. When she could stop feeling guilty for the pain she's going to inflict on him. When she doesn’t hesitate to follow through with the plan.

That’s why she did it.

_"Isabel Rochev is a snake. Your lack of focus at Queen Industries will cost you. Decide if your Father's legacy is more important than running around at night crossing off names from your list, trying to right the wrongs of Starling City. This is the one cake you can't have and eat as well."_

 She warned him. And she's just as certain that Oliver wont listen. He's going to pay…

"Mnawr."  The name was given to her, not chosen like all the others. "Abanh al-Sahr."                           

The familiar voice is one she isn't expecting. It isn't difficult to spot the assassin and what she wants is the one thing she wont give.  "Ta-er al-Sahfer." 

"Tell me where he is." Canary slowly makes her way down the stairs, her eyes never leaving Balere who slowly pushes away from the door.

"The Demons Heir is going to miss you." Balere makes sure to keep her stance relaxed, hiding any sign of weakness The Canary may have seen.

Canary is no fool. She knows that Balere is deadly and the fact she's making no move to attack only has her on alert. "I've been sent to bring him back."

"You know the cemetery in Starling City. I'm sure you wont have trouble locating my Father's grave." Balere takes a step towards Canary, moving up the staircase and ignores the staff as Canary brings it up in preparation for a fight.

"Balere-."

"Leave." She barely turns, the sight of her bruised face and the rounded belly draw the Canary's eyes. She lowers her staff and takes a step back.

"If you don’t help me catch Al Sa-Her, they will send others." She gives the warning, her eyes skim over Balere's stomach and then back to her face. "And they wont ask you politely."

"Don’t forget who it was taught you to use that staff." Balere reminds her.

The Canary takes another step back, a slight nod of her head the only acknowledgement she's heard the warning before she leaves.

Balere watches the door for a moment before her vision goes black. She looks around and doesn’t realize when she sat on the steps but her grip on the railing is firm.

"You're hurt."

Balere looks up, to the sound of the voice she thinks might just be in her head.

Malcolm is very gentle with his daughter. The sight of her face makes him angry and his fingers lightly skim over the bruises before brushing strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Father…"

"You're safe, Balere." He promises in a soft whisper. He places a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm here and I'll protect you." He picks her up easily. Her head tucking into his shoulder and Malcolm is reminded of the little girl he would put to bed. He feels regret, that he didn’t give her more of his love but Malcolm doesn’t know that he has any left. The young woman in his arms is almost as much a stranger as his dead son had been. Balere Merlyn is his daughter, she's also his weapons in his war to make Starling City what it should be.

Malcolm drops his gaze to the face resting on his shoulder, complete trust is her gift to him. "I'm here."

**-»**

Laurel broke her promise. She vowed not to make the same mistakes as her Father… But a little bit of hurt, a little pain, the loss and guilt of surviving the Glades… its more than enough to push her into drinking. She abused pills and threw herself into Oliver's arms only a week after Tommy broke up with her.

And Tommy still saved her. He cared about her and risked his life for hers. Was Malcolm punishing her? What would he do if the baby wasn’t a Merlyn? What if the child was Oliver's?

Laurel just couldn’t be sure. She had hoped, at first, because Tommy was gone and having a little bit of him to love was better than the guilt of knowing he died to save her.

_'What am I going to do?'_

**-»**

Moira has been thinking about this since Oliver cut ties with her. The lie she had thought and hoped would never be discovered. The fact she'd been unfaithful to her husband and with Malcolm Merlyn of all the men she could have … and all the trouble she had gone through to keep it all quiet. To hide the truth…

Oliver knew about the $2million. Would he go looking for the girl and that first child? Moira hoped not. She had been disappointed, to find out the girl was a liar, the child was not a Queen, not at all. Moira had felt the loss, so she had paid the girl to leave, to go away. So what? She had made sure to provide enough money they would live comfortably. And Moira would have made the occasional appearance, just to see how the child was doing. To get to know her grandchild…

But there had been complications. There was nothing to do, not enough and the autopsy… at least it hadn't been a Queen. She would have to make sure Oliver didn’t find out. There was no sense is hurting him more. He'd lost enough already.

**-»**

Balere doesn’t understand why. She's mucked it up somehow, that’s the only explanation.

"You're not safe here." Malcolm says once again. He can see she's trying to hide the disappointment be he wonders if it has anything to do with Oliver Queen. "Think of my grandchild."

"Of course." Balere murmurs. She looks up from her folded hands and nods dutifully but she still feels like this is a punishment. She hasn’t failed somehow, in some way.

"Dr. Martin will allow you to fly." He paces the length of the foot of her bed. "Take the private jet. I'll meet you at the dock and we'll take it slow. You'll enjoy some time at sea. It'll be good for you and the baby." He smiles but she's still looking disappointed. Malcolm sighs and moves to sit beside her. "Have you thought of a name?"

Balere looks up, startled. "No, Father." She frowns and wonders at how that had not come up before.

"Well, there's some time yet." He pats her hands smiling.

**-»**


	10. Believe In The Lie

He's been watching over her, playing his role of Father and Malcolm finds himself feeling like one.

And a liar.

What he wants is in his grasp but how he's gone about to get it… Somewhere deep, Malcolm has a soul. It’s a tainted, withered thing but even so there's a reminder, of what it had been like to be a Father.

"Father," Balere takes a seat beside him, both staring out to the ocean. She lays the book aside and frowns. "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Malcolm sighs a breath and turns to her. This young woman that reminds him of a woman he had once loved…

"My name." Balere turns to him. She waits and sees the look of surprise cross his face.

"Your name…" Malcolm closes his eyes and lays his head to rest on the cushion. He thinks back to his first days in Nanda Parbat, his pain and the loss of his wife. All his anger, his weakness… "Your Mother was special to me, Balere. I loved her." In his way. Not as he'd loved his wife but something like that. He could never understand _why_ but he certainly had loved the woman. "She was beautiful, strong-willed…" he glances at Balere listening intently. He knows she has very little memory of her Mother. "She was sick. She knew very early, that she would not be around to see you grow into this beautiful young woman. We chose your name; Balere. Meaning strong."

Balere lays her head on his chest. "I barely know anything about her, Father. I don’t remember her face…" she can scarcely remember anything about her, Balere's last memory is a field of stones and a black box lowered into the ground. Her Mother's funeral and then there was the League.

"She was as beautiful as you are, my daughter. You have her dark hair…" Malcolm gently threads his fingers through her lose hair. He's not sure what else he can tell her about the woman that caught his eye and the brief moments he spent with her. It was guilt that sent Malcolm home and left Balere abandoned with her sick Mother.

But he never forgot, he couldn’t forget.

"I have an idea…" Balere has thought about it since her Father mentioned the lack of name for the little Merlyn she's carrying.

**-»**

Oliver's attention has been taken up by Slade and his army of Mirakuru soldiers. He's still upset that Balere left without a word to him but at least she's safe. He doesn’t have to worry about her and their child while Slade is still intent on taking everyone he loves. His own guilt over Shado's death and the fact he couldn’t love her with the same intensity that Slade could. He's a sicko, kinda crazy thanks to their stay on the island and what the Mirakuru serum did to him. And Oliver had a hand in that as well.

An arrow in the eye instead of death…

And how many times is Oliver going to regret giving mercy instead of death? How many of his choices are going to keep coming back to bite him in the ass?

He ignored all the warnings; from his Mother and then Balere. And he's been ousted from his family's company. He's allowed Isabelle to take it, walked into Slade's plan… at every turn.

**-»**

She's been crying. On and off the last couple of days, screaming threats of what she'll do… Unfounded threats that really only make him want to laugh. At least she hasn’t been able to harm herself in the process.

"She's progressing just fine. Everything is normal."

"That is good news." Merlyn approaches the locked door. He's made sure Balere is comfortably settled in the cottage, that she has all the comforts there weren't hers growing up in  Nanda Parbat. Comforts his warrior daughter is not used to, that she will likely never grow accustomed to.

Merlyn can remember the timid child learning her way through the League. The tears and middle of the night sneaking into his quarters and softly whispered wish to go home. How do you tell a young child there is no home to go back to?

The glare leveled at Merlyn when he steps into the room comes with another threat, of what her Father the policeman will do.

"I'm dead." He smirks. "And you're…an addict who took some time away from the stress of her life to…recover."

"Screw you!" Laurel has a healthy fear of Malcolm Merlyn so she doesn’t approach him, even though what she wants most is to claw out the damn smug grin. "You're not going to get away with this! You can't keep me locked up!"

"I." Malcolm's smug grin is replaced with a look full of rage. "Can do _anything_ I wish."

"You're a monster." Laurel can't help but gasp. It brings a smile to his face that does nothing to remove the anger burning in his eyes.

"I'll do …monstrous things to ensure the safety and protection of my family." Malcolm is unwilling to lose anymore. He wont let another Merlyn die.

**-»**

The heat is something every member of the League is used to. Its part of the pain, of each day spent in the stone city that breathes death. This place that thrives in shadows and blood…

This is the only home he can remember. The only home that matters anymore. In the past year…  what he's become…

"Eayid." 

He answers to the name because its what he is. The man he had been… that’s a vague memory, a hazy image that fades more with each day that passes. A fight he can easily concede because each breath now belongs to The League of Assassins, to this place of stone and heat and blood.

He's a revenant; a ghost of the man whos been dead the past year.

**-»**


	11. Blood In The Ashes

At first, everything looks the same; the sterile room she was dragged to and strapped down. She wiggles her hands and they come up easily, no leather straps keeping her from yanking at the wires or claw at the masked faces. Her sight is fuzzy but the more she blinks, the easier it becomes to focus.

Laurel frowns; its not the same room. The walls are a soft gray and her bed is swathed in blue and white. She pushes up on her elbows, feeling the room spin slowly. Her mouth is dry and there's a silence that’s missing something. Once she realizes there's no beeping machine, no heart monitor, her eyes snap open and she slaps an open hand on her stomach.

"No!" her gasp is hollow, followed by the frantic scramble to yank away the blankets, to show her what she already knows but can't accept. "NO!"

**-»**

Balere wakes to the sound of singing birds and the warm glow of sunlight. The soft breeze flutters through the open window where her Father sits. His voice is a soft murmur and Balere listens a moment longer just thinking of the past few months. She's done as he's asked of her, she had thought her Father and brother dead… struggled to resign herself to being alone, no family, no ties, no one…

He is happy. Malcolm has his second chance at getting it right. Making different choices this time around. His daughter and his son have made it possible. "Good morning."

Balere sits up, swipes the dark strands out of her face and smiles a greeting. "God morning, Father. Have they woken you?" she sits up carefully, her hand smoothing over the lump at her side.

"We woke each other." Malcolm smiles as he stands and crosses the room towards his daughter. He places a kiss to the top of her head as she takes his grandson. "I'll send the nanny."

"I wont need her." Balere settles back into the pillows, her attention taken by the boy in her arms. "The boys and I have come to an understanding." She glances over to her right and the sleeping infant before looking up at her Father. "We'll be fine."

"Of course you will." Malcolm agrees. "This is a paradise. Our safe haven, Bale." He leaves them and the smile fades. The last 3 months have only brought to light the fact Starling City is under attack, while Moira focuses her attention on becoming Mayor. If only his Undertaking had worked… he could have been rebuilding the Glades, made it better … Instead, all Starling City did was allow the sickness to fester. "And its name is Slade Wilson."

**-»**

Detective Lance, now demoted to officer for working with the vigilante know as the Arrow, formerly The Hood - _'Damn names.'_ \- has a short, frantic message from his daughter on his cell phone.

_"Dad! Daddy! You have to h-!"_

After months of not hearing from her, months with only the occasional postcard to let him know she's still alive… and now this message? He should be _pissed_   and he is, but he's more worried. Because that doesn’t sound like his little girl is off having fun. And he's worried. He may not have his detectives badge but he can still pull some favors. It’s the waiting for the answers that puts him in a fowl humor for the next four days.

**-»**

Oliver has been cut at the knees each time he's gone up against Slade. No matter how he's tried to get ahead of the game Wilson is playing, it doesn’t work. But its in this moment, when Thea is crying beside him and Moira… she's known. About Oliver's night life, who he's been since he arrived in Starling City. She's kept that a secret as well, so many secrets between them and it doesn't change their love for one another.

Moira loves her children, all she's ever wanted was their happiness and maybe she didn’t go about helping them achieve it the "right way"… but she's done her best, she's done it the way she knows how. She hopes they’ll see it that way, that both of them will understand she never meant them any harm. Not ever, not for a moment…

"Mom!!"

Oliver doesn't know how to stop this. He can't seem to breathe anymore. The ground, the air, the night… his Mother is dead.

**-»**

Balere has waited patiently for her Father to tell her the next part of the plan. Their island has been isolated, no news of any kind and she's been curious about people she shouldn’t be giving second thoughts to. There's a city … the home of her enemy… a man she's struggling to keep her distance from, reminding herself its his fault her brother is dead… he tried to kill her Father…

Balere stares at the ocean, the breeze carrying the salty scent and cooling her skin. She's been thinking too much. Everything had been so clear before. She had always known her place in the world. She was a member of The League, an assassin and her purpose had always been the same; to kill. Now it was all confused and Balere has found herself wishing never having left Nanda Parbat.

The soft cry at her back reminds her there's a reason she's stayed. Two reasons. She moves into the open room and draws aside the sheer mesh curtain protecting the boys. Its Thomas who's called to her and she smiles at the waving fists.

"Hungry again, I see." She gently picks him up and takes her seat in the hammock strung near another open window. His dark hair is silky and she starts to hum a lullaby. She wont feel badly for the woman who couldn’t put him before her own selfish needs. That woman had been weak.

"You wont be alone." She can promise him that. She can say it to both of them. "I wont leave either of you."

"Good." Malcolm sees the startled eyes of his daughter narrow slightly, upset she was caught unaware. He wont reprimand her for being so engrossed in the child that she didn’t hear him approach. She's earned a reprieve from the constant need to look over her shoulder. He wants her to feel at ease, to feel safe and know that he can protect them.

"Father, I-."

"Don’t apologize, Balere." He smiles and looks in on his sleeping grandson. "There's no reason." He draws back and looks at her, his expression turning serious. "I'm going to Starling City."

She doesn’t understand why. He can see it, the slight furrowing of her brow, that reminds him of her Mother.

"I'm going to get your sister."

"Why?" Balere bites her tongue as soon as she speaks. There's no way Malcolm didn’t hear the tone of her voice.

"I want both of my daughters safe." He leaves without saying another word.

**-»**

"I'm not crazy!" she kicks at the padded walls unable to gets her arms free. The more she screams and kicks, the more she feels like the crazy person they say she is. "I'm not. .. I'm not crazy… I'm not…"

Laurel has no idea how long its been. Days or weeks, they wont tell her anything, they wont even speak to her. It’s the quiet she hates, more than she'd hated the incessant beeping. She misses it now, misses what she never got a chance to have. Not really. And who can she blame? Malcolm Merlyn?

Oh, he's got plenty of that blame but Laurel knows she's got her own share. If she hadn't been so willing to lose herself in guilt and grief for what happened to Tommy…

Anger got her out of the locked room. Being a cops daughter sometimes has its advantages and her own need to feel in control, even though the world is simply a chaotic mess no one seems to really see. Laurel didn’t get far but she knows her Dad, and he wont be kicking back, relaxing once he listens to that message.

They drugged her. Laurel's 'slap in the hands' for daring to break out. She can't make out what day it is. Can't get more than a couple of hours of clarity before one of them comes in shoots her with more drugs-

"NO." she scrambles away from the door. "No, please!" she kicks when he grabs her leg and forces her face down. He yanks her lank hair out of the way and the sting of the needle makes her gasp.

"That should keep you quiet." He carelessly rolls her onto her side and stands.

She watches them leave, the orderly blurring into three and then one. The door shuts again, a clang in her head before her eyes close and she's in that numb darkness.

"…mmm … not… I'm not… not crazy…"

Maybe if she says it enough they’ll believe it. Let her go…

**-»**

Oliver doesn’t know what else to do with Thea. They’ve had to bury their Mother, he's continued to lie to her. And Thea knows it. She can tell there's something he's hiding and angry because he wont come clean.

Oliver just … _can't_.  There's been too many mistakes. Too many people Oliver had thought he could trust, call friend… And he's been proven wrong.

_'How? How didn’t I see it?'_

"Sebatian Blood has been working with Slade all along." Felicity gets in his way and makes him look at her. "Oliver, there's no way you could have known."

Diggle chimes in. "She's right."

None of it makes him feel … _better_. He's been made a fool of and the city is paying for it.

"This city is falling apart." He can't help but feel responsible. He's sworn to protect it, the people and he's failing-.

"Then we stop it." Felicity assures. "We always stop it. We can fix this." She looks to Diggle for back up and he nods agreement.

"We'll figure this out." He doesn’t doubt they'll save the city and get the bad guy.

"And, uh," Felicity hedges, looking uncomfortable. "So, Officer Lance has requested some help from, uh…he's… found Laurel. Sort of." She tacks on quickly seeing the look on Oliver's face. "He received a message from her a few weeks ago-."

"Weeks?" Oliver snaps.

"Yes, hey, I didn’t know about it until-." She thinks twice about admitting she's know about it since yesterday. "You know, that's not important."

"Where, Felicity."

"She's been a patient of Angeles Institucíon, yes, I know I've mangled it." Felicity brushes off his impatient huffs and brings up the images of the island, along with everything else she's dug up on the place. "Its located off the coast of Australia in the Coral Sea. It wasn’t easy to find and how Laurel even got the call to connect-."

"Felicity!" Oliver snaps and it gets her back on track.

"Right, so, its an island." She looks at him, all nervous energy and curiosity, which is plenty annoying, which she knows but just can't help. "Why wouldn’t it be another island, right? Anyway, uhm. So, not much to tell. The place is low tech and I mean they don’t even have wifi let alone-."

"What is Laurel doing there?" Oliver is wondering if Balere has anything to do with this? Laurel's been gone for months and now, her Father gets a location that just… how does it make any sense?

"Oliver, this place…" Felicity's eyes skip from Diggle to Oliver's and she looks so apologetic. "It’s a rehab facility." She glances at Diggle again and draws a steadying breath because she knows what's coming once she tells him. "For the… uhm, the mentally ins-. Ill."

Oliver just stares. He can't get his brain to wrap around what Felicity is saying or how that’s even possible!

"Insane." Is all Oliver can get past his numb lips. "She's-. Laurel… has been there? All this time, she's…"

"Its owned by Isa Angeles. She's a psych-." Felicity manages to curb her tongue, for once. "Look, Oliver-."

"No." he shakes off whatever it was that held him semi-catatonic. He can't help Laurel when Starling City is being overrun by Slade's army of mirakuru men. "First we deal with Slade."

"But-."

"Laurel can wait another day." Oliver snaps. "The city can't."

It’s a cruel truth.

Oliver still feels like he's betraying a friend. There's that question, no matter how you answer, you lose.

How do you justify saving one life, at the cost of many others?

**-»**

****


End file.
